Mia #23 False Life

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From alt.drwho.creative, it's Missing Internet Adventure #23: False Life

Contains: Chapter 1: "What Thoughts Are Fantasies, What Memories Real?" by Timothy Jones Chapter 2: "Dreams Take Flight" by TimeLadyX Chapter 3: "One Man's Fantasy" by Greg McCambley Chapter 4: "Deterioration of Memory, or 'Pardon Me, My Mind Must Be Going'" by Kevin Michael Wilcox Chapter 5: "Is This the Real Life, or... (and Then Something About a Landslide)" by Cameron Dixon Chapter 6: "The Ending and the Beginning" by Greg McCambley Chapter 7: "Alpha and Omega" by Tony Whitt

Chapter One: "What Thoughts Are Fantasies, What Memories Real?" by Timothy Jones The planet of Paradise-1 was a tropical heaven, with lush jungles and forests, mountains that touched the sky. The beaches had warm pink sand, with crystal blue waters beating against the shores. Twin suns beat down on the planet, but the distance of the planet from the suns was at a perfect degree so that they were never scorching the planet's surface. This was in contrast to her twin, which was much, much closer to the twin suns, and everything that lay perfect on Paradise-1 was almost hellish on Paradise-2. Several people lined the beaches, wearing their bikinis and suits. Some wore nothing at all, which didn't seem to bother too many people. What made the planet all the more interesting was that there were scores of alien races that paid the planet a visit, many of whom were deadly enemies of one another, yet they didn't bother with each other. Not much, and not often. Now was one incident when the contrary was true. The Doctor slipped his way through the business district of Paradise-1. The one thing that bothered him about the planet was that it was never dark; night and day were the same here. That made it hard for him to be sneaky, but he managed to do it. He snuck up behind the one he was stalking, not even conscious of the security cameras that permeated the business district. "Hello!" He tapped the man on the shoulder.

"Huh?" The man spun to look the Doctor in the eyes. He was the President of United Earth. "Oh, it's you Doctor." "That's right." Romana almost literally popped out of nowhere with a beaming smile on her face. "It's the Doctor and Romana!" "Shush!" the Doctor hissed. "We don't want unneeded attention." "Right! OOH!" Her hand reached up to her face, and her finger touched along the side of her face in a pressing motion. "This thing is starting to come loose!" "Wait-a-minute!" The President's eye began to twitch. "Something's wrong." "Are we going to do it here?" "Might as well!" The Doctor worked his way behind the President, and presented a long thin blade. "Good, do it here" the President sighed, then a look of fear came to his face. "Do WHAT here?" A smile came to the Doctor's face. "Murder you, of course." The blade slid across the President's neck. "Wha--?" The President felt a sharp pain in his neck, then blackness subdued him, and he slumped to the ground. "Success?" Romana let out an even bigger smile than before. "Success!" The Doctor too beamed into the nearest camera. "Let's get out of here." "Right." Romana started to scratch at her face. "This false face does not fit right." The two waited until they were out of range of the cameras, then the faces were pealed off, revealing two quite different faces. Suffice it to say, they were NOT the faces of the Doctor and Romana. The console let out a slight humming sound, as it guided the TARDIS through time and space, after just moments before dematerializing from the pleasure planet situated in the center of the Hydrarioun system. Romana came skipping across the console room; her sandy blonde hair flowed behind her. "I found out one thing about you." "What's that?" the Doctor, who was still hovering over the console table, inquired. "You really CAN take us to a planet where we can explore things, and simply have fun without a sense of urgency or danger." The Doctor's face beamed. "Oh, it's just a matter of getting the TARDIS to actually obey my input commands." "Danger, Master, DANGER!" K-9's voice was barely audible and at best slurred. Romana kneeled down over the robot dog. "K-9, what is it?" "My movements seem to be stiff and at points almost non-existent." He stiffly staggered back and forth on his wheels as if to prove his point. "Let me take a look at you." The Doctor sounded sympathetic, yet there was something insincere in his voice, as if he already knew the problem. He pulled the sonic screwdriver from his coat pocket, flipped his multicoloured scarf over his shoulder and smiled, as he pulled a small metal plate from the dog's side. "I see what it is!" "What?" Romana inquired. "Am I bound for the scrap-heap, Master?" "Oh, no, no! Nothing that drastic, it's just that you've been left running for three days straight, and your battery packs are all but depleted." The Doctor started digging around the mechanisms and pulled out hands full of sand. "Not to mention, your gears are all stopped up with sand and shells." The Doctor pulled out a smallish rainbow tinted

shell. "OOH!" Romana took the shell and examined it. "That's a pretty one. Mind if I add it to my collection?" "I don't mind." The Doctor finally began to take off his coat as Romana headed back to her quarters. "Could you pull out the vacuum while you're back there?" "Sure." "Good." The Doctor started going back to cleaning the sand he could get with his hand from K-9. "What have we here? OW!" His hand lurched out with a sand-crab dangling from his finger. "Oh, hi there, little fella!" The crab looked up at the Doctor and quickly scurried to the pile of sand that sat on the floor and began to bury itself inside it. "Doctor?" Romana's head popped around the corner. "Yes?" The Doctor looked up from watching the crab's actions, as the last bit of sand covered its small body. "Since this was more of a pleasure-trip than most of our previous ones, could this be considered as a-" A smile came to her face. "-date?" "A date?" The Doctor pondered. While on previous occasions, he'd found himself romantically interested in one or two of his companions, he'd never acted on it, at least not intentionally, and never ever directly. With Jo Grant, he had always wanted to, but never got around to it, then to his surprise she fell madly in love with that scientist on Earth. She promised to save him a piece of her wedding cake, and she did. But any hopes of a relationship between the two were dashed against the rocks in a blow that took him a long time to get over. That was one regeneration and several companions ago now. He had convinced himself that a relationship would never have worked anyway. But with Romana it was somewhat different, especially since her regeneration. They were after all from the same planet, and were both Time Lords, this incarnation of Romana was a pleasure to be with and get along with, and they were both within the same age range, give or take a few hundred years. "I guess s--." He stopped himself short of setting them both up for as heartbreak. "What I mean is, I guess if the circumstances were different. What with us always being on the move from one planet to another, never knowing if one of us were just going to up and stay behind if we find a cause we can stay behind and fight for or some such--." "You want it to be considered as one, but can't." Romana tried to simplify things as much as possible, at least in her own mind. She slowly walked towards the Doctor. "Y-yes." "I understand." She kissed him on the forehead and walked away. The courtroom was huge, and almost typical of most courtrooms in the known galaxies. A judge sat at the head of the room, almost on a pedestal behind a large desk, and several lawyer types sat on either side facing the judge. "The next case," the court officer bellowed out, "the criminal masterminds known as 'The Doctor' and 'Romana' vs. the people of the planet of Paradise-1." "Your honor," the public defender stood up and slowly walked towards the bench, "I would like to call for a brief delay on the proceedings, as the defendants are not present."

"Why not?" The Judge's voice was loud and deep, deep enough to invoke fear into the hearts of even the innocent. "Contact with them has been made by neither me nor my office. Your honor, it clearly states in the mandates that when an incident is brought to trial it MUST proceed whether or not the defendant is present," the district attorney pointed out. "Agreed," the judge nodded. "State your case." "Your honor, as you well know, the planet of Paradise-1 prides itself on the peace kept between her and all of her visitors." "Yes, I know." "And that is despite the fact that many of these races are virtual enemies of each other, they all seem to lay their guns at the door, so to speak, bringing a sort of a harmony. It only on rare occasions that this harmony is broken." "What is it that this 'Doctor' and 'Romana' have done to bring disharmony to the planet of Paradise-1?" "They have cold-bloodedly and even openly murdered several people. One of which was the President of Earth, who was merely here on a brief getaway. "They have they been captured on security cameras." As if on cue a viewscreen slid from the ceiling showing images of the brutal murder in question. It was indeed the Doctor doing the killing, and he even paused to let out a large toothy grin at the camera. "How brutal and crass!" The Judge motioned for the screen to be disengaged. There were several observers in the room, some present for other cases, some reporters, among several others. All of their mouths dropped, as if to agree with the sentiments of the Judge. "If I may say something in his defense?" The defender stepped forward. "Proceed." "It just came up on my console that the one known as the Doctor had signed out of a hotel," he paused and let out a deep sigh, "on the other side of the planet," again a sigh, "at that exact moment in time." "Yes," the D.A. conceded, "but all that proves is that someone was giving him an alibi." "He was seen by various cameras on the other side of the planet, as well as quite physically." "His coat and scarf were left at the scene." "How do we know that he wasn't framed for the murder?" "You're honor, the evidence that he was here in this city is overwhelming, I plea that you find him guilty of murder." "Granted." The judge pondered. "The defendants are guilty of murder. Punishable by incarceration on Paradise-2." He washed his words away with a sip of water. "Sir," the Defender cried out, "isn't that a bit drastic?" The D.A. spewed out the water he was swirling around in his mouth. "Drastic?" "We do not know the whole story. There are events that must be weighed and counter-weighed." "He commits a murder most brutal, and you ask for what? Leniency? A smack on the wrist?" "There may be some reason as to why he committed this murder." A pause. "We must answer the question of why he was seen on both sides of the planet at the same time." The Judge slammed down his gavel. "They will live out a fantasy of their own creation, a fantasy that will become their own living nightmare for the rest of eternity. Their memories of any existence

outside that world will be rendered itself a fantasy, and the fantasy will become their reality." "Sir about their still roaming free off the planet--?" the D.A. asked. "Find their ship and use any means necessary to bring these fiends to justice." "Your Honor, granted they may have killed somebody," the defender paused and sighed, "but shouldn't we hear their side of what happened?" "They have disrupted our way of life, murdered people on our planet," the judge bellowed ever so louder than before, "the sentence will be carried out." the gavel came crashing down on the podium. "Next case," the Court Officer read the list, "a mass murderer of several families of offworlders. Kris Cranchee..." Romana stood behind the stove, as she pan-fried several trout, turning them ever so often until they were a golden brown. "Something smells good!" The Doctor poked his head through the door and smiled a large toothy smile. "It better," Romana fanned her hair as she turned to look at the Doctor, "I'm cooking them the way you like them." The Doctor saw a smallish black speck on Romana's neck just before her hair fell into place behind her neck. "Hold very, very still," he moved towards Romana. "What is it?" "A tick." "Get it off!" She held her hair back so the Doctor could see what he was doing. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pair of tweezers, his hand was steady as the tweezers pinched the tiny insect and pulled it off her neck. "Got it, head and all." "Good, I hate those things." Romana's head shook until her hair fell back into place, "You never know what sorts of diseases they carry." "Quite true, while it's true that--." An alarm cut him short. It was as ear piercing as could be. Romana looked at the Doctor. "What is it?" "We're under attack." The Doctor headed towards the console room. "Damn!" Romana threw the pan to the back of the stove and ran after the Doctor. It only took a few paces for the both of them to get to the console room. He threw on the screen and saw several missiles coming at them from every direction. The Doctor didn't speak, just punched at a few switches on the console as he almost sped around it. "Where are you taking us?" "Anywhere, anywhere but here," The Doctor yelled, "even she's not able to withstand a direct hit from whatever kind of missiles they are!" The TARDIS cried and whined as she began to de-materialize, but in the meantime the heads of the missiles had opened, and grappling hooks took hold of the TARDIS, pulling it back from where it came. "Too late!" The Doctor watched as the planet Paradise-2 came closer and closer on the screen. "Criminals," a strange voice roared throughout the TARDIS, "you have committed a crime most heinous on the planet Paradise-1." "There must be some mistake!" Romana protested.

"You have murdered several people on the planet Paradise-1, a crime most heinous and punishable by imprisonment for life on the planet Paradise-2." "He must be joking!" Romana had to stop herself from laughing. "It's no joke, I'm afraid," the Doctor frowned. "The people of Paradise-1 take life and death, and murder very seriously." "Okay, okay, fine I understand that. But life imprisonment? Insane! There was no trial for crying out loud." "Oh, I'm sure there was a trial, just we weren't invited." "What are we going to do?" The Doctor saw the ground rushing up at an ungodly speed. "Prepare for impact!" The ground of Paradise-2 was a rocky terrain, a hellish feel of 220 degrees Fahrenheit was the norm for the day, and one couldn't expect it to cool down at night, since there were no nights here. There were no oceans, no lakes, no beaches, just rock. Forget about any vegetation, there was never enough rain to water a leaf in a year let alone to sustain any sorts of vegetation. There was no indigenous life, but the occasional tower peaking through the mountains indicated that there was some sort of a transplanted civilization. They were the technicians and doctors in the unlikely event that the fantasy machines were to break down or the patients died. The fantasies worked as thus: the mind essence of each prisoner was removed from the body and placed inside REM Amplifier where they were in a constant dream state. Through the machines, each prisoner's fantasies could be intertwined with another's to give the illusion that the fantasy is a reality. As time progresses, the intensity of the fantasies intensify until it gets to be too much to bear and the prisoner dies. The bodies (now just worthless shells) of the prisoners were left to rot by wherever their ship was forced to land. They decay of the bodies have an effect on the fantasies as well as the intensity level. The mindless bodies of the prisoners lay spread around like so much garbage, some still living, but not for long. One of these living corpses heard a loud almost violent screeching sound as a tall blue rectangular box crashed towards the ground. As the box crashed the ground shook as if the box were much heavier than it appeared. The lifeless body staggered over to investigate, there was writing on the side which read "Police Telephone free for use of public... pull to open." He heard a movement behind him; the techs and doctors were approaching in their bio-suits. He quickly ducked away, so as to not be seen. The crash of the ship caused the Doctor and Romana to be first thrown against the walls, then the ceiling and finally, as gravity control switched back on, the floor. "Doctor!" Romana cried, as she did all she could do to stop her head from crashing against the console, and in fact she has missed it by mere inches. "The grappling hooks have disengaged." The Doctor threw himself towards the console table, and began to throw the switches at a seemingly random formation as frustration set in. "Come on."

The TARDIS began to pulse with a faint sign of life whining and groaning, but then fizzled out. For the first time since he first boarded the TARDIS all those centuries ago, the ambient hum fell silent. The silence was deafening. "Come on!" "Someone's outside!" Romana stared at the screen; several men in bio-suits were approaching. "Come on, you piece of junk!" the Doctor cursed as he kicked the console. Something happened, something he didn't want to have happen, the doors opened. Maffew was new to the job, in fact it was his first day on the job, so even through the bio-suit, with the internally controlled climate, he still couldn't bear the heat, but he kept on going anyway. He held out a high intensity laser to the lock, and the door popped open. He loved the technology, he felt like a king being able to open any door in the galaxy, no matter what the key coding. Even a genetic locking system was no match for his magical key. He entered the TARDIS and immediately hovered over Romana. "This won't hurt!" "What won't hurt?" she groggily asked. He pulled a helmet out of his bag of tricks, and slammed it onto Romana's head, the tiny electrodes made their connections. "Stop that! Stop that this instant!" The Doctor pushed at Maffew so he could get to the helmet, but he forgot about the second intruder who had worked his way behind him. The last thing he felt was a sharp pain through his brain, he screamed in agony, then fell unconscious. The Doctor screamed as he awoke from his sleep, and looked around the room, which appeared to be a part of a summer cottage. The window was open, and a slight sea breeze was pouring through the window. "W-where am I?" The Doctor slowly looked around, taking the sudden change of scenery in. "At home, silly!" Romana sat on the edge of the bed in which he was sleeping and caressed his face. She wore nothing but a silk shirt, which was unbuttoned and that was intentionally thin, so the contours of her body could be seen. "Home?" he mouthed out. "I know, it's disorienting, with us still unpacking, but, we'll get used to it." "Romana I--." "Shhh!" "The TARDIS," The Doctor sat up suddenly, "where is the TARDIS?" "TARDIS?" Romana looked puzzled, as she unfamiliarly formed the word in her mouth. "What's that?" "Our time-ship that we travel around in." "Oh, that thing from your dreams and stories! You've been working too hard on them as of late," Romana motioned towards a stack of books. The Doctor picked one of the books up, he read the title: "Doctor Who vs. the Daleks." "You've been up all night working on your latest one." She held the manuscript in her hand and looked it over. "Interesting concept. Do all of these come from your dreams?" "Dreams?" The Doctor's eyes narrowed. What was Romana talking about? They had lived them all out, yet he could vaguely remember them. He knew something was wrong, yet he couldn't place his finger on it.

"What bothers me, is that you spend more time with your stories at night, than you do with me." "Well--." She pulled her shirt open to reveal her nakedness. "Do you suddenly find me so un attractive as when we first joined?" "J-joined?" The Doctor was bewildered, and unintentionally pulled away from Romana. "As in m-married?" A tear ran down Romana's cheek, as she threw a robe on. "I'll get breakfast ready." "Sure." He tried to hide any further confusion as he made his way out to the kitchen. Doctor Vvoxx walked into the lab with his note-pad in his hand. There was a look of anger on his face. "Why didn't anybody mention that the last two prisoners were Time Lords?" "Does it really matter?" Maffew groaned, as he rolled his eyes. "Hell yes!" Vvoxx felt like spitting fire. "We have no idea what effect it will have on a Time-Lord. Their systems are completely different from any of our previous subjects." "So?" "So they have the power of regeneration for one, secondly while their minds are more intimately entwined with their bodies than many of our previous subjects, they seem to have some sort of a back-up system of thinking that we aren't familiar with." "So?" "So... forget it, just forget it. Just remember, they can still think and act." "You mean -- they won't be zombies like our other experiments?" "Zombies, yes. But not like no zombie you've ever seen before!" The TARDIS was a wreck, the frame was cracked from the impact, the console was jarred to bits, still in working order but many of the switches and components were jarred loose, and in some cases completely off. The Doctor's body lay almost where it fell after the brain drain. His hearts were no longer beating. Then there was a loud thumping sound as both hearts jump-started each other, his eyes popped open and he smiled. "Doctor?" Romana slowly sat up. "What happened?" "You know," he sat up and moved towards Romana, "I don't remember." "I feel... different." "So do I, almost like someone sucked something vitally important from us!" Romana shrugged. "So, how soon do you think it'll be before we get the TARDIS working again?" "Soon," The Doctor started to work on the console, "very soon!"

Chapter Two: "Dreams Take Flight" by TimeLadyX The heat of the 250 degree Celsius weather beat down relentlessly on the planet as the twin suns blared blindingly in the red sky above, making

ripples of heat and haze in the vision of the zombie-like being now watching the blue police box. His eyes had already partially melted into their sockets and his balding head was covered in a motley patchwork of blisters and sores, as well as the rest of his skin that wasn't covered by what was left of his navy blue suit. To set foot out on the rocky red terrain of Paradise-2 was certain death, but to lay curled up in a fetal position on the floor of his sheet was giving up on life as if he didn't care a toss for it. He had already spent an eternity trudging about the corridors of his wrecked ship. He closed his eyes, trying to read the writing on the blue ship from his hiding place in a crack in a large boulder. At least his hiding spot kept most of the direct light off him, but it did nothing to alleviate the intense heat. He blinked again and peered at the writing. It wasn't doing any good. The more he blinked, the worse it got. The words had already run together in a melted blur in his eyes, now it seemed the haze of lettering was doing some kind of interpretative dance meant only for his brain to comprehend. It was probably too late for that since he was positive his brain had started to rot away. The longer he remained in his hiding spot, the more he felt an odd bubbling, boiling sensation inside his cranium. He knew he had to get inside that blue box. It was imperative that he get inside! It looked intact and that was a good thing because... because... His brain gurgled to him, boiling in its own juices. He thought he knew a moment ago. At any rate, he had to get inside, say hullo to the newcomers and introduce himself because he was someone important. Yes, that was it! They would be able to get him off the planet because they had to! And because his name was... was... He could almost feel the piece of brain that remembered that vital piece of information slipping out of one of his nostrils and falling to the ground in an undignified and stomach-turning squish. The zombie pulled himself out into the open into the searing light, and musty smell of dust and rotting flesh that lingered about the place like a cloud of stench. He lumbered and staggered towards the blue police box, leaving juicy and fluid filled footsteps behind him. In the shadows of an overhanging rock, a dark shape watched the man. It crept slowly out of its place of shelter from the burning suns and skittered toward one of the footsteps, filled with the iridescent oil of body fluids and rotting skin. Two large antennae the size of meter sticks danced quickly over the ground in front of it, tasting to see if there was anything edible. It opened its sled-sized brown wings to fan the air behind it and unfurled a long tongue to reach into the liquid. It shifted its weight closer to the ground for a better position to feed and sucked up every drop of the rancid liquid. It focused its compound eyes on the man, knowing the zombie would be no challenge and it would feed well today. Tommathan drew a circle with his toe in the pink sand. He looked up for a moment to glance at the huge clock, one of many, lazily keeping time on Paradise-1. Two Parotian girls strolled out of the nearest bathhouse and giggled to each other, glancing in his direction. They both smiled, showing off mother of pearl teeth, their red plumage hair dancing in the light breeze behind them. One of them fingered a feather coyly giving him a sly glance. He gave them a short smile and shook his head regretfully. There were plenty of other unattached people on the beach. Not that he didn't want to. He watched the both of them pick their way gracefully through the throng of beach goers vegetating in the sun. Both of them were well proportioned and amply endowed, but he had other

commitments, one of which had brought him here to the beach, the only place he could properly think, enjoy the atmosphere and work on his golden tan in the process. Tommathan stretched his arms and glanced around the beach. At least half of the other court officials spent their off hours here. It was the perfect place to relax and unwind between trials. Crystal blue waves rolled lazily against the shore, the twin suns shone brightly in the expanse of pink sky without a cloud in sight, and light trade winds danced through the air. Light laughter filled the air as group played with a beach ball a little way away from him. There were certainly few places in the universe that compared to this planet-wide slice of heaven. Tommathan turned over on his towel and glanced at his papers spread out before him on his brightly colored beach towel. Each paper was weighted down by various accoutrements that he had brought with him. The largest pile of paper was weighted down by his half-eaten lunch, which what passed for a dog was sniffing at dubiously. He swatted the dog away playfully, picked up the lunch with one hand, and sifted through the papers with the other. He was still troubled by that last case. He had considered himself lucky to get his job as Public Defender. It didn't pay as well as he could have hoped for, but the benefits were more than he could imagine. Still, most everything over the past several years had been open and shut cases, with the exception of one or two. But none of which he had lost sleep over. Nothing which bothered him like this one. "The case of the Doctor and his lovely companion, again?" asked a sensuous voice next to his ear. Arraina sank down onto the towel next to him, and draped her arm over his shoulders. Her arm was cold and wet and made chills run down his spine, as seawater dripped down from his shoulder blades and made a pool in the small of his back. "It's no fun swimming alone, you know," she said playfully, grinning at him. Her yellowish-golden skin glistened with droplets of water. "You should give it a rest and join me. Besides, it's over. They're locked away where they won't be able to do anyone any more trouble." "That's just the trouble, Ari," Tommathan said, using his hand that he had been rifling through the papers with, to lightly rub her back and linger teasingly on one of the straps of her emerald green bikini. "I don't think we did imprison them, at least not all of them. There is still the fact the security cameras caught sight of them in two different places at the exact same time. No one can do that. It's just not physically possible." "Maybe they just projected images of themselves checking out. Or it could have been a glitch in the time reading on one of the security cameras. Not all of them have been recalibrated recently." "Still, Ari, it's just too much evidence at the crime area. I mean, it was like they wanted to get caught. Smiling at the cameras, and leaving both the hat and scarf at the crime scene...." "That's just the sign of a sick mind. All the more reason to imprison them." He reached over to stroke her face. "I love it when you get difficult. I have all the more fun trying to change your opinion." Arraina smiled and batted her eyelashes at him. "I bet you say that to all the pretty jurors." He kissed her lips, tasting the bitter saltwater on her skin. "Too bad you couldn't have used that line on the judge. I could have won that case." "Ah, but then where would we have been? I used that line on him last week and managed to sway his verdict during that State versus

Kallisten case. Besides, he overruled you because he has his eye on that district attorney," Arraina said, smiling slightly lost in thought. "So do you and everyone else." "Except you, of course." "Of course," Tommathan muttered, reaching for another kiss. The Doctor ruffled his brown curls with one hand while his other skimmed down the wooden banister railing. He paused on one of the stairs and looked at the paintings on the walls. All copies, of course, except for one solitary painting staring up at him from the wall across from the landing at the bottom of the staircase. It was a picture of a teenage girl with short brown hair, dressed in a vaguely oriental dress, posed in front of a chess game. There was something familiar about the painting as if he had been there at one time. The girl looked so real, staring out the painting with serious large brown eyes and smile playing on her lips. He could almost remember the sound of her voice. "Hurry up, Daddy. Dinner's getting cold." A young girl, with shoulder length brown hair stood pertly at the bottom of the staircase, one hand resting on the banister. She smiled at him and twirled around once, so her yellow dress could swirl around her. "Do you like it? Mom bought it for me last weekend. She said I could wear it today when we go to the museum." The Doctor paused in mid-stride, staring at the girl. She was certainly too young to be the girl in the painting, but they both had the same serious eyes. Eyes that looked too old to be their proper age. "Who...?" The girl chewed on her bottom lip and pouted. "Mommy said you haven't been feeling well," she mumbled, her smile rapidly turning into a frown and tears glittered in her eyes. "Mommy says she wants to talk to you in the kitchen." Seeing the girl bordering on tears just wasn't right. She should be smiling, he thought to himself. "Yes, of course!" he said, giving her a goofy grin. "Now just run along and I'll be there in a minute." The girl grinned at him and took off running down the hallway and around the corner. He watched her go silently and took another look about the place. The house was lavishly furnished. His writing must certainly have been paying off to have been able to afford a place this large and expensive. Along the walls of the hallway were bookcases that reached the ceiling, all completely crammed to the limit with tales of science fiction. He ran a thumb along one of the rows and pulled out a book that was slightly jutting out from the others. He turned it over and read the cover. 'Doctor Who and the Ice Warriors'. He put the book back quickly and turned toward the sound of clattering pots and pans. He pushed open the door and saw a room filled with a warm yellow glow and sunlight pouring in from a window on the opposite side of the room. The window sat above an oven with several pots and pans on it, with steam rising slowly from the tops of them. Romana still had her robe on and had her back to him. She quickly shredded a hunk of cheese and added it into a skillet on a burner next to her. The young girl sat on a barstool on the other side of Romana, letting her legs dangle playfully over the side of the barstool. She kicked her legs and tried to turn the stool in the Doctor's direction. Romana turned suddenly and looked at him. Tears still glistened on her cheeks. She looked at the girl for a second and gave her a slight smile. "Kris, I need you to go into the living room and watch your cartoons for a little bit. Okay, honey? Your father and I need to talk for a moment."

The girl stuck out her bottom lip pouting and jumped off the barstool. She trudged her way to the door behind the Doctor and opened it. She gave him a quick grin and left the room. "I have a bad feeling about this." "You should. I just got off the phone a minute ago," Romana announced, walking over to the sink to clean off the grater. She turned on the faucet, plunged grater under the water and snatched up a scouring pad with her other hand. "Maurry says you're behind by a month on your latest book. He needs that rough draft to show to the publisher." She turned off the water and turned to look at him. "If you haven't been working on that book, what have you been doing? Because you certainly haven't been spending that time with me." Ari did have a point. The people wanted a villain to accuse of the crime and ease their worry about there being a cold-blooded killer in their midst. Tommathan had abandoned his spot on the beach and was resting on a sofa in an extravagant bathhouse. The place had thick yellow carpeting, sofas and chairs scattered around, most of them in front of the wall of twenty monitors lining the main wall of the room. There was an adjoining room with showers for the beach goers. The bathhouse was one of hundred stationed all along the beach maintained by the government as a convenience for both the locals and the tourists. Another local sat in the opposite corner of the room in a plush chair watching a soap opera with a drowsy expression on his face. Tommathan picked up the remote from the coffee table next to the sofa and turned on all the monitors not in use. The lower channels were all popular viewing stations filled with the basic Soaps, cartoons, sitcoms, and other various entertainment shows. However, the upper channels all viewed different security cameras on different parts of the planet, so the public could rest assured that someone somewhere was watching over them. He pulled up the menu and set the monitors to show him what happened on the night of the murder of the President of Earth. The two monitors near him flickered black and white pictures of the Doctor and Romana. One being the view of the Doctor and Romana killing the President, and seeming to take great enjoyment over the murder, and the other showing the same two people checking out of a hotel. All of the other screens showed various streets and places throughout the planet. He flipped through a couple of stations to show other views of the planet. He stopped flipping when he reached channel 523. Two of the monitors had nothing but static on them. He reached for his briefcase, flipped it open, and riffled through the papers. He pulled out a list of all the security cameras on the planet. There were five cameras missing, either broken or recalibrated, but none of those were on this channel. According to the list all of the security cameras on channel 523 should have been in complete working order. He flipped through a couple of other channels. He stopped again, when he reached Channel 546. Three more of the monitors were showing static for that night. Why hadn't anyone mentioned this? He ran a finger through the list and stopped on one of the monitors that showed static. It wasn't anywhere near the crime scene. They most likely tossed it out as being unrelated. Still, it was too much to be just a coincidence. He locked his briefcase and looked about the room. The man who had been sitting in the far corner had vanished, though the soap was still playing.

"Danger, Master," chirped K9, still sitting on the floor of the TARDIS with his side panel lying on the floor next to him and his insides exposed. "Danger?" The Doctor pushed himself out from underneath the multi-sided console and sat up, looking about him. He darted a look at Romana who sat off to the side with her arms buried inside one of the open roundels next to her. "Who could want danger at a time like this?" She withdrew an arm from the roundel and pointed at the monitor with the sonic screwdriver she was holding. "That man perhaps?" On the small screen, a man, barely recognizable as such, staggered closer through the rocky terrain. He was covered in a glistening oil and white bone showed through in various sores where his skin had rotted away. Behind him loomed what looked like a brown cockroach the size of a Volkswagen.

Chapter Three: "One Man's Fantasy" by Greg McCambley Life on Paradise-1 never really stopped, whether day or night. The vastness of the its central City, combined with the decadence of the majority who lived there, ensured that something was always going on somewhere. The majority of action occurred in the immediate vicinity of the beaches. Further inland, towards the spaceport, life was somewhat quieter. Here, the massive hotels and apartment dwellings gave way to somewhat smaller buildings, such as warehouses and the like. The majority of people in Paradise tended to ignore these areas, and in all probability didn't even realise they were there. In one of these warehouses, a room sat in total darkness. Or, rather, it *would* have sat in total darkness except for the flickering images on a gigantic screen floating in the centre of the room. Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of images appeared and disappeared on the screen, changing rapidly. Below the screen was a console, on which sat several smaller monitor screens. Each of these screens showed a smaller image, the next different from the last. One screen showed an alley; another showed the entrance to a building; still another showed a busy hotel lobby, full of people going about their day. They appeared totally unconcerned about the presence of the cameras, as that was the part of the price for living in Paradise. The figure sitting in front of the monitors said nothing; preferring to just sit and watch. Inside the TARDIS, the Doctor and Romana watched the man stumbling and staggering along towards them, with the large cockroach-like creature rapidly gaining on him. "What is it?", Romana asked. "It's positively repulsive." "A reject from 'Them', perhaps?", the Doctor replied. He quickly went over to the console to check the door control. He flicked it twice, but the doors didn't move. Moving through the interior door, he stopped at the nearest trunk, and began sorting through it, throwing its contents all over the floor. "What are you looking for?", Romana asked. "You're not going out there, surely?" "Of course not," he replied, "but that fellow appears to be in rather a hurry to get here, and we'd be horrible hosts if we didn't let

him in. Keeping in mind, of course, that our other visitor is definitely *not* on the guest list." Not finding what he was looking for, he looked around desperately. "Where did it get to?" "Where did what get to?" "The manual crank for the door," the Doctor replied, as he opened another trunk. Romana walked over to a roundel, opened it, and pulled out the crank. "It's here, Doctor. I've got it," she said. "Hmmm?" said the Doctor, as more items flew through the internal doorway. Romana spotted the hole next to the doors, and attached the crank. "I said, it's here, Doctor," she said, raising her voice slightly. The Doctor stuck his head back through the door, a beekeeper's hat on his head. "That's the one," he said, dropping the soccer ball he had been holding. "Well done, Romana." He grabbed the crank and began to turn it. Slowly the internal doors, which had been wide open, began to close. Outside, the man stumbled along, what remained of his vision focussed entirely on the police box. So close, he thought. So very close. The front doors appeared closed, but he knew that they would be open when he got there. They had to be. Then he would be safe. Safe from the heat and the stink. Safe from... His thought was interrupted when he slipped on a rock, and momentarily lost his footing. He stumbled, landing on his knees. He didn't feel the knee of his suit rip, or the pain of his scraped knee. He momentarily lost sight of the box, and instead his remaining senses were filled with the sound of chittering behind him. It sounds close too, he thought. Close, and hungry. Refusing to look back, he got back on his feet and hurried on. Literally a world away, Tommathan sat on a bench in one of the many parks Paradise-1 had to offer. He sat with his head back and his eyes closed, basking in the gloriously summery day. He didn't bother looking at his watch. When a voice said, "Hello, how are you?", Tommathan smiled. Right on time, as always. He opened his eyes. Sitting next to him was a smaller man, wearing the light grey tunic which denoted his position as a Technician. "Hello, Gim," Tommathan said. "I'm fine. How are you doing? It's been a while." Gim smiled. "Can't complain, all things considered," he replied. He rubbed his balding head. "I was beginning to think they'd made your job obsolete." "Not likely," Tommathan said, laughing. "Despite what the brochures say, this planet isn't entirely crime free." "You don't have to convince me of that. You wouldn't believe the number of cameras that I have to fix because some idiot vandals decided to have a little fun." He looked Tomm squarely in the eyes. "So what can I do for you this time? Need some expert testimony again?" Tommathan picked up his briefcase. "Not today," he said, opening the case, and pulling out a short list. "Right now, I'd like your help checking on some issues concerning camera problems." Gim laughed. "So you want me to use my off time to do my job for you?" "Sort of," Tomm said, giving his serious look. "I have a list of

camera locations I want you to check out." He also pulled out a miniature monitor and punched in channels 523 and 546. The screen showed nothing but static. "The cameras that broadcast on these channels don't seem to be working. I'd like you to check them over for me. Give me a reason they're not in service." "Is that all?," Gim said. "No problem. It might cost you a little extra, though." "Of course." Tomm handed over a credit chip. "Is a thousand enough?" Gim slipped the chip in his pocket. "Only because I like you." He also took the list. "I'll check them now, and get back to you in a couple of hours." Both men stood up. "Thanks, I owe you one," Tomm said. "How many times have I heard that?", Gim said. The two men shook hands, and walked off in opposite directions. Across the street, a man watched Gim and Tomm leave. He stood there, with his head tilted slightly, not saying a word. Then, after a momentary hesitation, he seemed to come to a decision. He set off in the direction that Gim had gone. The Doctor sat at the computer, watching the words 'Doctor Who' bounce around the screen. He didn't really feel like writing anything, but Romana seemed less concerned about him if he appeared to be working. He glanced around the room. He noted the bookcases, stacked half full of books. The rest of the books were still in various piles on the floor. His eyes glanced out the window, and he watched as Romana puttered in the garden. She loved to get in there and dirty her hands, the Doctor thought. So why does the whole idea of it seem so... well, wrong? He turned back to the computer, then back at Romana again. Being with her feels like the most natural thing in the Universe, and yet this whole relationship with her seemed almost unnatural. The Doctor was so lost in thought, he almost jumped when he heard a voice behind him. "Hello, Daddy. How's the book coming along?" The Doctor turned. There was Kris standing in the doorway, watching him. He marvelled at how he could look at her sometimes and see Romana, and at other times he could see himself. She seemed so natural a daughter. And yet... "Hello, Kris," the Doctor said. "The book's coming along fine. Just taking a break." Kris wandered over from the doorway. "Let me see," she said, as she cleared the screensaver, revealing a blank screen. "You haven't written anything!" "Well, it's not called 'The Invisible Enemy' for nothing," the Doctor said, smiling. Kris winced. "That was a bad joke, Daddy. Even for you." She put her arms around her neck. "Having trouble coming up with ideas, Daddy? Or is it because you and Mommy are arguing?" The Doctor began to get uncomfortable. "We're just having little disagreements from time to time. Most people do, you know." "No, I didn't," Kris said, hugging the Doctor. "I just wanted to let you know, Daddy, that I know you and Mommy will sort everything out." She looked over at the pile of Doctor Who books on the floor. "Do you remember, when I was younger, how you'd read your stories to me at bedtime?" The Doctor, who had vague recollections of it, nodded. "I remember you even had a favourite one." Kris smiled. "Uh-huh," she said, and she went and pulled a book out

of the pile. She handed it to him, and the Doctor stared at the cover. It featured a gaudily dressed man in robes, like a priest or something, with a sniper's crosshairs imposed over his face. The title read, in bright red letters, 'Doctor Who vs. the Deadly Assassin.' "This was your favourite?" the Doctor asked. "As I recall, it was a bit gruesome." He looked at Kris. "You didn't find it too scary or frightening?" "Well, a little bit scary," Kris admitted, "but I knew you'd protect me from anything, Daddy. Besides, It's not real." The Doctor laughed. "Of course it isn't," he said. He looked at the book again. "Why was it your favourite?" "Because it was different from all the others you wrote, silly," Kris said. She grabbed the Doctor's hands. "Come on, Daddy. Let's go outside." The Doctor put the book down, then stood up. "Of course. Let's go help Mommy with the gardening. Get fresh air in our lungs." They walked out the door, hand in hand. Gim whistled to himself as he made his way through the streets. A thousand credits, simply for doing 30 minutes work. That will do nicely, he thought, in helping me get lucky tonight. He checked the list again. The building where the cameras were located was just up ahead. He glanced around him. He'd left the crowds back several blocks, so now he just had to deal with manoeuvring his vehicle through traffic. He didn't get out this way very often, as cameras in these sections weren't deemed high priority. Still, I get paid for a job, I do it. Doesn't matter who pays me, Gim thought, as he pulled his vehicle into a parking area. After getting his tools out of the back of the vehicle, he headed down the street. In the darkened room, the figure watched Gim head down the street with his tools. The camera didn't pan to follow him, though. Instead, it focussed on a hooded figure who stepped out of an alleyway and immediately set off after Gim. The figure sat back, still not saying a word. The Doctor had managed to close the doors to a degree wide enough for the man, but not for the creature. I hope, the Doctor thought to himself as he stood up. He looked at the screen. "How's he doing?", he asked. "Not very well, Doctor," Romana said. "He's stumbling more and that thing seems to be gaining on him." "Right," the Doctor said. "Romana, remember how I said I wasn't going out there?" "Yes?" "I lied." The Doctor headed towards the doors. "Doctor, wait!", Romana said. The Doctor held up his hand. "No long goodbyes, Romana. If I don't come back, you take care of the TARDIS. K-9, you take care of Romana, and the TARDIS can take care of you. Farewell, my friends," he said. "Doctor, wait!" "What is it, Romana? I said no long goodbyes." She tossed him his hat. "Here. I rather think you'll need this." The Doctor caught it and put it on. "Good idea," he said, and out the doors he went.

The chittering grew louder, and yet the man still refused to look back. Looking back would mean seeing the thing chasing him, and that was something he was sure would drain him of any desire to live he had left. Best to keep looking ahead. Towards safety. That was when he noticed that the front of the box wasn't blue anymore. It was black. This didn't make sense to him at first, but then a figure standing outside the dark registered. He must have come from the box! The door was open! He had been right. The sight spurred him on and he redoubled his efforts. As soon as the Doctor stepped outside the TARDIS, he decided that the scanner really didn't do this planet justice. It was Hell, pure and simple. The heat and the stink hit him full force. "If we were on Paradise-1 before, this must be Paradise Lost," the Doctor muttered. He smiled at his joke. I must remember to use it again when Romana's around, he thought to himself. Shielding his eyes, he looked towards the man. The man appeared to have renewed vigour, as he had stopped staggering. When the Doctor noticed the man's conditions, he winced. How could anyone survive in a place like this with injuries like that?, he wondered. Especially with nasty creatures like that running, or rather scuttling, around. Yet there was something about it... Slowly, the Doctor realised that he was walking away from the TARDIS, towards the creature. He tried to stop walking, but found he couldn't. He kept putting one foot in front of the other, moving forward. The man saw that the figure was working his way towards him. He couldn't understand why. There was nothing out here to attract him. All that was here was Death. "Go... back," the man said, but it came out as barely a whisper. He tried again. "Go... back." This time it was a little louder, but still not loud enough. The figure was still moving towards him. He decided to try one last time. "GO... BACK!", he yelled. That took something out of him, but it seemed to have the desired effect. He saw the second man close his eyes and turn around. The Doctor sighed with relief as he found he could control his movements again. "That was close. Talk about animal magnetism," he said. Suddenly a flash of blue went past him. Realising it was the man, the Doctor ran after him, listening to the chittering behind him. He ran back to the TARDIS, and saw the man disappear inside. A few seconds later, he followed him in. As he broke into the Console Room, he turned around, just in time to see Romana crank the doors shut. Finally, with a resounding thud, the doors closed. "Ha, ha," the Doctor yelled. "Close, but no cigar! Well done, Romana!" Romana stood up. "Welcome back. I'd assumed from your last words you'd be pushing up the daisies." "Nonsense," the Doctor said. "I wouldn't be caught dead dying out there. Speaking of which," he looked around the room, "where did he

go?" "Into the TARDIS," Romana said. " I would have stopped him, but I had to close the doors." "Well, let's go find him, then," said the Doctor. He checked the scanner. The creature was standing outside, its antennae quivering. "We should be safe, I think. K-9, give us a shout if it breaks in." "Vocal capacities at 40 percent, Master," came the dog's reply. "Unable to comply." "I'll look after K-9," Romana said. "You find him." The Doctor smiled. "Won't be a moment," he said, disappearing through the interior door. Romana knelt down, and started to work at K-9's insides. The Doctor smiled at Romana and Kris running around the garden. Kris had sprayed Romana with the hose, and now Romana was trying to do the same to Kris. Kris was screaming with delight. A lovely picture of family life, the Doctor thought. He stepped off the back stairs, following a little path which went around the side of the house. As he turned the corner, the garage loomed before him. Its windowless walls contrasting greatly with the openness of the house. At the end of the path was a door with a padlock on it. The Doctor reached the door and, pulling a set of keys from his pocket, unlocked it. He pulled the door open and went inside. Once inside, he closed and locked the door behind him. He turned on the lights, and turned to survey the interior. Their red Convertible sat in the centre of the floor, gleaming in the harsh electric light. To his right, there was another door with a padlock on it. At the far end of the garage, a table was set up with cords of wood stacked up on top. Below the table lay a pile of tarps. The Doctor went over to the table and, kneeling down, he pulled aside the tarps. Sitting on the ground was a box full of electronics and various pieces of metal. He picked up the largest piece of metal and examined it. It was gray and very smooth, and rectangular in shape. He picked up the box and, after he unlocked the second door, disappeared into the next room. Gim was stumped. He had been checking the camera for over an hour, and he could not find anything wrong with them. They were working perfectly, and yet they didn't come up on the channel scanner. Sighing, he picked up his communicator and input Tommathan's number. Shortly, Tommathan's face appeared on his screen. "Hey, Gim," Tomm said. "What's the news?" "Not good. I've been over every piece of these things, and by all rights they should be working, but they're not." "Let me check," said Tomm. "What channel?" "546." "OK, hang on a second." In the darkened room, the figure flicked a switch. In his home, Tommathan punched in Channel 546. "You're right, Gim," he said. "It's still off." As he said that, Channel 546 suddenly appeared on his monitor. "Wait a minute. It just came on." "Well, I still don't see anything," Gim replied. "I don't

understand this at all. I..." Gim suddenly fell silent. Tomm looked at the image on his monitor. The screen was completely empty. "Gim, where are you? What happened?" As Tomm watched, Gim suddenly reappeared onscreen, staggering into the image. He was staggering down the alley, his hands clutched in front of him. Then he collapsed, and a slowly spreading red puddle appeared beneath him. Suddenly, another figure walked into the camera's view, looking down at Gim's body. It took Tomm a few seconds to register the bloody knife in his hand. Then the figure turned, staring directly into the camera. Tomm swallowed hard. The figure with the bloody knife in its hand was him, smiling broadly...

Chapter Four: "Deterioration of Memory, or 'Pardon Me, My Mind Must Be Going'" by Kevin Michael Wilcox Tommathan's face fills the screen. "Look at the time stamp on this!" he yells. "I'm here, at home!" The image that follows moves by just a bit too fast to be intelligible, but does give the overall impression of a person's den or home office. When the camera finally stops again, it is pointed at a monitor showing Channel 546. On that channel, Tommathan is standing over a bloody corpse. "That," says the Tommathan in his home, "is not me! I'm here, at home, miles away, watching this live! Look at the time stamps!" The Doctor peered around the door of the darkened infirmary. "Hello?" He squinted as his eyes examined every shadow, every hiding place. There, underneath the third bed along, he saw a bit of movement. "You can come out now," he said. "I won't hurt you." He grinned broadly. "I promise." He held up a small paper bag where the light of the hallway would make it plainly visible inside the room. "Jelly baby?" When no one emerged, the Doctor shook the bag gently. "Come on." He took a candy from the bag and ate it, smacking his lips. "Mmm, yummy." "Now," said a voice from the darkness, "you're just being condescending." Tommathan looked over at Arraina, but she seemed as confused as he was. "How can it be inadmissible?" "It does not conform with the rules of evidence," the judge intoned. "'Conform with the rules of evidence'? Nothing about this whole proceeding conforms with any rules I've ever heard of!" Tommathan stood up and pointed at the judge. "You know I'm innocent. You know I'm being railroaded, and you know why. For once in your life, Bert, be a man." The judge looked down at him, then up at the ceiling, as if looking for inspiration. The Doctor helped the emaciated man back down the hall. "The last thing I remembered was riding out to the back forty," the man said. "I needed to check on some fencing after a storm. Anyway, next thing I

knew, I was being pursued across the desert by that giant cockroach." "Talking of which, how's our friend outside?" the Doctor asked as they entered the console room. Romana pointed up at the viewscreen. "See for yourself." The creature had stopped a few metres away from the TARDIS and was now scratching at the dirt to get at water trapped underneath. As it dug, it turned so that its back was to the machine. "Is that what I think it is?" the Doctor asked. "I noticed it earlier," Romana said. "It's a saddle." "Honey!" Romana yelled. "Honey! Maurry's here!" The tall, erect man at her side, Maurrice Alistair, the Doctor's editor and friend for fifteen years, bristled at the use of the familiar. "Can I take your briefcase?" Romana asked. "No, thank you. There's something in here I need to show your husband." After a moment, the Doctor came out of the garage. "Ah, there you are!" He paused, looking at Alistair quizzically. "When did you shave off the moustache?" "What the devil are you talking about? I've never had a moustache in my life." The Doctor grinned. "Sorry, of course. Still, come along. Come along." He led the editor into the garage. "I've been working on something to get around my writer's block." He pointed at the door to his workroom. "So what did you want to see me about? The publishers up in arms?" "Not anymore," Alistair told him. "There's something that the publicity department's come up with that they want you to incorporate." The Doctor groaned. "You know how I hate it when they make these demands." "At this point, be grateful for any help you can get." He set his briefcase on the hood of Romana's car and opened it. "They've done some sketches." He took a posterboard from his case and handed it to the Doctor. The Doctor's eyes widened when he saw the picture. "It's a robotic dog," Maurrice explained. "They've dubbed it K-9." "Who drew this?" the Doctor asked. "I think that young Miss Smith. Why? Is something wrong?" "You aren't going to believe this," the Doctor said. He went into the workroom and came back carrying a mass of electronic equipment. Though the metallic shell around it was only half-formed, its shape was easily discernable. The Doctor held it up to let Alistair see where he had attached a plate bearing the name K-9. "Quite a coincidence, eh?" "I don't understand." "Neither do I, but..." The Doctor felt a sudden pressure on his whole head, like his skull was shrinking. With a cry, he raised his hands to his temples. K-9's body fell to the floor of the garage and shattered. Tommathan looked around him. If this was supposed to be a life culled from his own mind, then he didn't know himself nearly as well as he thought he did. He was standing in a little girl's bedroom. The walls were covered with posters of horses and teenage boys he presumed were from popular entertainments. He sat down on the edge of the canopied bed and noticed for the first time that he was wearing a dress.

"Please tell me I'm not going to have to spend the rest of my life like this." The door opened, and a woman with long blonde hair stepped into the room. "Kris, supper will be ready in..." She stared at Tommathan, and he recognised her as the Doctor's companion. "Who are you?" she demanded. "What've you done with my daughter?" "We need to talk," he said. But Romana only screamed.

Chapter Five: "Is This the Real Life, or... (and Then Something About a Landslide)" by Cameron Dixon The door opened, and a woman with long blonde hair stepped into the room. "Kris, supper will be ready in..." She stared at Tommathan, and he recognised her as the Doctor's companion. "Who are you?" she demanded. "What have you done with my daughter?" "We need to talk," he said. But Romana only screamed. Romana winced, holding a hand to her eyes. Suddenly the lighting in the control room seemed just the wrong shade of too bright, and someone else's thoughts were digging into her head, seeking purchase. Or else she was genuinely concerned for her daughter. The Doctor didn't seem to have noticed. "Fascinating," he murmured, his eyes widening as they took in the sight on the scanner screen. "Congruence of sorts? But in which direction? Is the fantasy of riding a horse in the back forty reinforced by the reality of riding this rather unappealing character in reality, or is it the sensation of riding in reality which causes the dream of the horse?" The melting man looked at him, or towards him. "What's a horse?" K9 rolled forward, eyes flashing dimly. "Danger, Master," he drawled. "Intruders." "Yes, yes, tell us something we don't know." The Doctor turned back to the melting man. "By the way, I don't believe we've been properly introduced after all of this, have we, I'm the Doctor, these are Romana and K9, I didn't catch your name, not that it's the most important question here, that being what exactly you did to end up on this planet, I assume it's not your idea of a holiday getaway?" The burning man shook his head bitterly. Romana ducked aside with a grimace as some of his skin splashed on the floor. "What did any of us do to end up here?" he said bitterly. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, falsely accused. That damned judge! I don't even know what I stood accused of!" "Hmmmm. Sound familiar, Romana?" Romana held out a hand to support herself against the console. "Doctor," she faltered, "we don't have a daughter, do we?" "None that I'm consciously aware of," the Doctor said, "and that wasn't quite what I meant to say. How interesting. You know, of all the prisons I've ever escaped from, this has to be the five hundred and sixty-third." "Warning, Master," K9 insisted. "Intruders!" "Not now, K9, not now! Now..." The Doctor spun around and knelt

next to K9. "K9! What state are your power systems in, eh?" "Energy supplies recharged to fifty-three percent of maximum," K9 responded. "Imperative to deliver warning of intruders in the TARDIS!" "Ha," the Doctor snorted. "Intruders, plural? You need to learn how to count again, K7!" He leapt to his feet and pulled Romana to one side. "Romana," he murmured. "I think there's more than one stranger in the TARDIS, what do you think?" "I think K9's rationality circuits are deteriorating," Romana replied. "If only we'd had time to repair him properly before we ended up here." "Ah!" The Doctor snapped his fingers and pointed to the small pile of sand on the floor of the TARDIS. "Tell me, what were you thinking before the TARDIS was captured?" Romana looked into space, remembering. "I was worried about K9," she rattled off, "concerned about the diseases carried by the tick you'd removed from my neck, admiring the mathematical precision of the seashell we'd picked up, considering the romantic aspect of our relationship." "And we're Time Lords. Travelling in the Vortex. With a special relationship to Time." The Doctor nodded. "Yes, it all makes sense now, unless I'm making a wild leap to a bizarre and overcomplicated conclusion, completely lacking in common sense of any kind. But where would the fun be in that?" He looked back over his shoulder. "You, I didn't catch your name?" The burning man shuffled around again. "Yes?" "You need medical attention. You're in desperate need of a Doctor." "I'm quite aware of that." The man lifted his arms. "The strange atmosphere of this ship of yours must be keeping me alive. I know I should be delirious with pain right now, but..." "Yes, well..." The Doctor draped his arm over the man's shoulder, and then winced and took it away again with a slight tearing sound. "Ah. Well. Never mind. I've got hundreds of similar jackets just lying about the place. Now there's a room I'd like to introduce you to, I think you and it would get along very well together, Romana? Look after K9, our friend is going on a little journey." On the floor, a few grains of sand ran down the pile, as something beneath it stirred. "Are you quite sure you're feeling better?" Maurrice inquired. The Doctor sat on a bench in his workshop, pale-faced and sweating. "No," he replied, "I'm not sure. Not sure at all. I know this is real, I know this life of mine is real and the novels are the fantasy, but it's all backwards in my mind, as though I can tear aside this reality like a mask and somebody else will be staring out from underneath." "Oh, pull yourself together, man," Maurrice snapped. "Honestly, you writers are such moody types it's a wonder you're ever able to string two sentences together. You've got a good life here. Don't throw it away now!" The Doctor looked up, brain ticking over feverishly. "Throw it away? Or have it taken away? Is this where it all starts to fall apart? A happy life can't be a suitable punishment, can it? It's not just the robot dog that brought you here, is it?" Maurrice harrumphed uncomfortably. "I didn't want to say anything, not yet, but yes, your publishers have been making noises. Remember, you signed away your ownership to the character of Doctor Who to the publishers when you put your name on that contract." "Yes," the Doctor murmured, "when I bought into this place, the

Doctor was no longer mine to control." "Quite. And you're not the only writer out there. The publishers are willing to let you drop the current assistant, they've listened to your complaints about her use of violence, but they demand in exchange that you launch the new year with a linked series of six novels, so that the readers have to buy the next novel each month to see how the sequence turns out. They want you to give Doctor Who a new assistant and send them on a quest through time and space, to collect the fragments of a magic idol that can control the flow of Time in the Universe." "I've said this time and again," the Doctor snapped, "he doesn't need a new assistant, they're all the same anyway, he might as well just have a talking cabbage on his shoulder which he can explain the plot to..." "And that's exactly the kind of talk they won't put up with any longer! They don't need you any more! There are dozens of young writers out there who want to play in the Universe you created, and Target's willing to open the doors to them if you won't co-operate! They're on the point of signing on a new author now, a former naval officer who wants to break into the children's market. I'm telling you now that if you don't buckle down, then the first story in the new sequence will end up being written by Andrews Sullivan instead!" The Doctor stood up. "Are you trying to frighten me, *Maurry*?" he spat. "Are you trying to frighten me by threatening to take all of this away from me? Because if this is what I'm here for, then you're attacking the wrong reality! If you want to take away something that really means something to me, you should threaten my dreams!" "Listen to yourself! Don't you hear what you're saying? This *is* reality! You're putting your own fantasy life above the real lives of your wife and daughter! Your daughter, man!" The Doctor faltered, sitting back down on the workbench, and Maurrice pressed his point home. "You see? You think about that! Think about that young woman in there, relying on you to support her! Are you going to turn away from all that because you think these things you've invented in your mind are real?" He leaned forward, eyes flashing, and the Doctor felt himself sliding off his stool, black bursts flashing behind his eyes. He realised with some surprise that he was about to faint. "Are you going to choose that over your own daughter?" Romana burst into the workroom, her eyes wild and terrified. "Maurrice! You have to help me, there's something wrong with Kris, she isn't my daughter! She *isn't!" "Oh, really," the Doctor muttered as he slumped to the ground, darkness closing in on him, "you couldn't have come in at a worse time." Kris stared at herself in her bedroom's full-length mirror. No. Tommathan stared at his dream-body in the mirror. This female body. Not his. What had happened? He remembered the trial, he remembered Bert leaning back in his chair and looking pensively at the ceiling. Ari looking at him. Ari's eyes. Then what? This had to be Paradise-2. He knew it, he knew what was done to criminals or to those who had been accused of criminal activity, although until recently he'd always considered those to be one and the same; but he couldn't remember anything after the trial. He knew that his body was lying on the burning sands of Paradise-2, its flesh boiling away, but he couldn't remember them actually taking him there.

But he couldn't remember much of the trial, either. It was fading away, fading like a dream upon waking, and he, she, remembered playing in the sand and the surf with her parents; Romana waking her on Christmas Day to unwrap a new doll with shrieks of delight and her father trying to cook Cornish rock hens for them all, memories of a life that wasn't his, but was hers. Tommathan? The name rang a distant bell, but all she could think of was that time she and her friends had stayed up all night watching movie after movie starring that nice Mr. Baker. But something had happened to her now. She'd always been happy in her life, and now she felt as though something had happened. She felt displaced. This isn't my dream, she thought, this is someone else's. What am I doing here? K9 rolled erratically across the floor of the console room. "Imperative warning danger Doctor-Master, Mistress-Romana. Multiple intruders. Dream incorporated. Temporal anomaly." He rebounded off the opposite wall and spun to a halt. "Bedebedebedebedebedebe." Romana tore her gaze away from the cockroach-thing on the scanner, digging deep into the sand. "Oh, K9," she said sadly, and reached out her hand. "Don't worry, I'm sure that the Doctor will." Something black and shiny crawled out of K9's side panel. Romana snatched her hand back with a moue of disgust. "Multiple intruders," K9 rasped, and his eyescreen went dead. Something scuttled on the other side of the room. Romana turned to see another crab crawling out of the sand they'd cleared out of K9 earlier that day. She remembered the questions the Doctor had asked her before he left, and suddenly she understood some of it, or more of it. On the screen, with quick, scuttling motions Romana recognised as generated by instinct, the cockroach-thing was digging something out of the sand; something that looked like the remains of an escape capsule. "There's something nasty crawling under the skin of Paradise," the Doctor said as he supported the burning man down the corridor. "But that's usually the case, isn't it?" "Are you sure this is the right way?" the burning man asked. "I thought I saw some medical equipment through the door back there." "Yes, but your eyes are melting out of your head, no offense intended. The room we want is just down this way. You see, I've worked out where this place is, and what happened to us, and I've got a theory as to why, but I'm afraid I haven't worked through all of the implications of it yet. You see," the Doctor leaned forward, as if to whisper, and then spoke in perfectly normal volume, "I'm not quite in my right mind at the moment." "You don't say," said the burning man. "You see, the TARDIS has a symbiotic relationship with its occupants. In a sense, we share the same mind, although some of us aren't quite as conscientious about taking their turn on the cleaning rota as they should be. Now what I believe is that when we left our last destination, we passed through a weak spot in the Vortex, and somehow, all of the thoughts the TARDIS had bubbling through her at that moment went into selecting its next destination. The hermit crab that had crawled into K9's workings, the discarded shell Romana added to her collection, my own subconscious desire for a happy family life; the TARDIS brought us to a place where all of these images and feelings we were experiencing internally could be brought out in reality."

They'd come to a central hub, a round foyer of sorts where corridors split off from the centre and ran wildly off in all directions. There were a pair of double doors embedded in the wall, and the Doctor reached out and opened them. "But that doesn't explain why or how Romana and I were apparently framed for a crime before we arrived here, or how you're walking around talking when your body should have shut down from shock." "I assumed your ship..." "Yes, you mentioned, but how did you know that? Hm? You know, Time Lords -- such as myself and Romana and presumably not you -- have rather advanced autonomous nervous systems. In an ordinary human being the parts of the brain and nerves that are used to keep the heart beating, or the diaphragm flexing, for example, can be used by us to think when the conscious brain is otherwise occupied. Or when it's been removed." The Doctor stepped forward into the room, and watched with satisfaction as the burning man suddenly straightened up, a surprised expression crossing what was left of his face. "Which again brings us to you. And this room. The Zero Room. Why do you, an ordinary human being, now seem to share the attributes of a Time Lord? Why is your autonomous nervous system doing your thinking for you instead of carrying messages of pain?" He sighed and reached out for the doors again. "I'm sorry about this, really I am. I'm afraid this is going to sting a little. But it's far more likely to hurt much more than that." He shut the doors behind him. A lone figure sat in the centre of a web of television, images from Paradise flickering on the walls before, beside, behind and above. His skin crawled with anticipation. All was going according to plan, the plan he'd planned out and had planned for him. He remembered foreseeing all of this before. A lesser mind would have called it a dream, or at best a vision. A lesser mind would have dismissed the fulfillment as deja vu. But he had been able to tell the difference, even back before he had words for what he was sensing; back before he knew that there were such things as Time Senses. Before he'd felt the name of the future blown back on the time winds to him, and had started calling it "Doctor". Time senses. The ability to look beyond the narrow little perspective of "now", to perceive the shape of the future, and guide it into place. The first murders, the first trials; the victims unimportant, whether they be the killers or the dead. Justice rushed in the name of the public peace; nobody questioning the hidden purpose, the establishing of kangaroo courts. More hosts collected and sent out into the streets, while the future became clearer, the new senses sharper, until finally the names and faces were there, before him. The precedents now established, the Doctor and Romana tried and convicted in their absence, capture and sentence carried out before they had a chance to work out where they were or what was happening to them, let alone what to do about it. And now They had the Doctor and Romana in their gestalt, their abilities added, their conscious minds subsumed while the creatures implanted in their physical bodies did their work. With the Time Lords added to the mix, the natives of Paradise-2 now had the abilities of Time Lords, including the time senses which had reached back in time from this moment and made all of this possible; the existence of the future guiding the past. Judge Bertram Gorelli sat back in his seat, satisfied, content, and the creatures under his skin crawled to the surface, ready to hatch out

and claim paradise.

Chapter Six: "The Ending and the Beginning" by Greg McCambley On the surface of Paradise-2, a small group of buildings sat amongst the rocks. Inside, several people were going about their normal duties. For most of them, this involved monitoring those individuals sent to the planet. In the Central Lab, Dr. Vvoxx was anxiously monitoring the neural activities of his Time Lord subjects. Maffew stood by silently. Vvoxx slammed his fist down on the console. "I knew this would happen!" he said. "Problem?" Maffew asked. "*Yes*, there's a problem!" Vvoxx replied. "This Doctor fellow is playing hell with the system. His mind keeps fighting the reality imposed on him! I've never seen anything like it!" Maffew glanced at the screen. "Should we alert the Judge about him?" Vvoxx looked up at him. "And tell him what? That one Time Lord's brain is confounding our greatest scientific achievement?" Vvoxx snorted. "That would go over real well, I'm sure." "Well, what else can we do?" Maffew asked. Vvoxx stared at the monitor for a second, not saying anything. Then he stood up. "Maffew, get some of the guards together, and meet me at the main entrance in 10 minutes." Maffew nodded and turned to leave. "Oh, and Maffew?" "Yes?" "Make sure they're armed and ready to kill." Maffew blanched for a second, but quickly recovered. "Yes, Sir," he said, and he left. Vvoxx stared at the monitor again, then began preparing his equipment for the trip back to the TARDIS. Romana rocked back on her heels and gave a small sigh of frustration. K-9 lay before her, his insides a jumbled mass of wires and seaweed. But no more crabs, she thought to herself. She had made sure of that. Now she had to finish digging out the seaweed. She reached in, grabbed the few remaining strands, and threw it on the small pile by the sand. "I'm sorry, K-9," she said, "but repairing you is going to take a while." She patted his head, and was relieved to see him just barely wag his tail in response. Standing up to stretch, she glanced over at the monitor, and watched the Roach creature outside continue its digging. The thing it was uncovering definitely looked like an escape pod, but not any sort that she was familiar with. She looked again at the creature, and shivered. It was definitely one of the most repulsive creatures she'd ever seen. Yet she couldn't take her eyes off of it. The voice behind her made her jump. "Don't stare, Romana. It's not polite." She looked to the doorway, where the Doctor stood. "It's hard not to." The Doctor nodded. "It does draw your attention, doesn't it? I wonder why that is?" "Pheromones?" Romana posited. "While we're in here and it's out there?" the Doctor asked.

Romana sighed. "It was a silly suggestion, wasn't it?" "Unrealistic would be the better word, I think." The Doctor moved closer to the screen. "That looks like an escape pod it's digging up." "So it does," Romana said. She glanced around. "Where's our guest?" "In the Zero Room." "The Zero Room? But that's where..." "...we heal ourselves. Yes. I think it will do him some good." "But surely he's not a Time Lord?" "No, but he's the closest you can get to being one without being born on Gallifrey." Romana pushed her hair back over her ear. "How is that possible?" "I'm not sure," the Doctor said. "Hello, I think our friend outside has finished excavating." Romana looked back at the screen, and saw that the Doctor was right. The pod's remains lay totally uncovered. The creature then sat itself down on the ground, its legs folded underneath itself. It didn't move an inch. "Now what?" Romana asked. The Doctor shrugged. Then he went over to K-9 to examine his innards. After his examination was done, he patted K-9's head. "Don't worry, K-9. Have you sorted out in a jiffy," he said, and immediately set to work. Romana knelt down again, ready to help. Inside the Zero Room, the man was undergoing a painful, but remarkable, regeneration. His first instincts after being locked in was to clamour for immediate release. These feelings gradually eased, however, when he began to sense the energy in the room. It was not dangerous or lethal. Instead, it was soothing. It comforted, as well as healed. He'd left the door and moved to the center of the room, where he sat and let the energy flow through him. It had hurt a lot at first, but the pain and shock had gone down considerably since he first entered. He closed his eyes, and he sensed the sores on his head and body were beginning to heal over. He knew that when he opened his eyes, they would both be working again. He felt his mind strengthening, and began to think clearly again for the first time in a long while. And then he began remembering everything. His name, his life, his mission, everything. When the voice began talking in his head, he wasn't surprised. He'd remembered it too. Maffew stood by with the other guards, each checking that their bio-suits were properly sealed. Vvoxx looked them over, much like a general would. "All weapons ready?" Vvoxx asked. "Yes, sir." "Good. Let's move out. Remember, we need only kill the Doctor. The female Time Lord is to be left alone. Understood?" Everyone nodded in response, and they all headed out into the wastes. "Darling, are you all right?" The Doctor slowly opened his eyes, blinking several times. His vision was filled with Romana's face. He barely registered Maurrice standing off to one side.

"A little woozy," he said, sitting up, "but physically fine." "Good," Romana said, and she slapped him hard. The Doctor recoiled in shock, rubbing his chin. "What was that for?" he asked. Romana's face was tense with anger. "Something is going on here, and you're the cause of it!" she snapped. She stood up, motioning to the pieces of K-9 on his worktable. "Is *this* what you've been doing with your nights, instead of being with me?" "Romana, it's not that simple," he began to say, but she cut him off. "Yes, it is that simple!" she said. "This junk, the books, the stories. They all mean more to you than I do! More even than your daughter does! And now your daughter is gone!" "Gone?" he asked, standing up. "Gone where?" "I don't know!" she screamed. "There's a strange man in her room!" The Doctor stroked his chin, lost in thought. What was going on here? "Maurrice, could you look after Romana?" he asked, but there was no reply. He looked around. Maurrice was no longer in the room. Tommathan had stumbled across the study while looking for the Doctor and Romana. He was fascinated by everything he saw. It's all so ancient, he thought as he touched the computer keyboard. He walked over to the books and leafed through them. A cough sounded behind him, and he turned. A tall man stood in the doorway, dressed all in black. Tomm didn't recognize him, but he certainly wasn't the Doctor. "Hello," he said. "Here to see the Doctor?" The man in the doorway stepped into the room. "Who are you?" he sternly asked. Tommathan was taken aback by the menace in the man's voice. "I..." he started to say, then stopped. He had no clue what to say. Maurrice stepped further into the room. "You're obviously not their daughter, and they don't have a son. So I'll ask you again. Who are you? What are you doing here?" "He's a cousin once removed," the Doctor said, suddenly bursting through the door behind Maurrice.. He immediately went over to Tommathan's side. "Hello, young man. Nice to see you again. It's been awhile." He shook Tomm's hand. "Your cousin?" Maurrice asked. "Yes, my cousin," the Doctor said. "Then why is he wearing your daughter's clothes?" "Just a phase he's going through," the Doctor said, smiling. Maurrice didn't return the smile. In the Zero Room, the man stood up. He felt cleansed, refreshed. He felt reborn. He remembered everything. He knew who he was, and what needed to be done. He moved to the door which opened up by itself. He stepped out in the corridor, and the door closed behind him. He turned and headed towards the Console Room. "There we go, K-9. How's that?" Romana asked, a satisfied smile on her face. "Sensor functions restored, Mistress. Mobility still impaired. No offensive capabilities." "We'll take care of that later," the Doctor said, patting K-9's head. He glanced back at the screen. The creature was still outside, not moving at all. "Now what should we do about him, I wonder?"

"We shall go out and meet him." The Doctor and Romana turned to see their guest standing in the doorway, and Romana gave an involuntary gasp. The man who had been virtually a pile of goo a while ago was now wholly healed. He was a man of medium height and build, with dark, dark eyes. His suit still bore the rips and tears from before. "I beg your pardon?" the Doctor asked. "We must go to him, Doctor," he said, "we must leave here at once." "Leave?" Romana asked. "Why? And where can we go?" "Men are coming here to kill you, Doctor. We must go where they will not find us. We must go where we are needed," he said, and with a gesture, the TARDIS doors opened. "Bring the machine," were his last words before he disappeared out the door. The Doctor and Romana looked at each other. "Looks like we don't have much choice," Romana said, reaching for a hat of her own. "Looks like," the Doctor said, picking up K-9. Stepping outside the TARDIS, they saw their guest moving away across the rocks, the cockroach creature scuttling along behind. The Doctor and Romana rapidly set off in pursuit.

The creature had been quietly sitting under the blazing sun when its quarry had suddenly reappeared. It was about to charge again when it suddenly realised that its quarry was different. The creature's antennae quivered as it studied the person in front of it. This person, like the pod, was steeped in the heady scents of Pasttime, as well as something else. Something familiar. It immediately recognized that this was no longer its quarry. This was its Master. The time had come. It was the Ending. The group from the monitoring base moved slowly across the surface of Paradise-2, the biosuits doing something to alleviate the heat on the surface. Maffew groaned silently. Doing this run across the surface once had been bad enough, but twice? He was beginning to think this wasn't the glamour job he expected. When he had signed up, he'd envisioned a job protecting Paradise from scum. He hadn't expected to be hiking through this wasteland. He glanced across the surface, watching the heat haze rising off the ground. They couldn't have chosen a more perfect place to put a prison if they'd tried. That seems to be all this planet is good for, he thought. He was so lost in thought, he almost ran into the guard ahead of him. "There's the Doctor's ship," Vvoxx said. Maffew blinked. The ship looked the same, but now... "What's that?" he asked, indicating the escape pod. "Something left from a previous forced landing, I suppose." "But where'd it come from? It wasn't there before, and we haven't had any more landings." "Well, check it out if you like. You two guards come with me." As they moved to the TARDIS, Maffew edged cautiously towards the uncovered wreckage. Definitely an escape pod, he thought, and it looks very old. Maybe it even predates the prison. He tried to shift one of the pieces, but it was too large and bulky for him to get a proper grip. "You get that end," he said, motioning to the remaining guards, "and

you get the other." The guards went over and, reluctantly, grabbed hold of the metal. "OK, ready?" he asked, and they nodded. "Then one, two, three, lift." The wreckage came up slowly, as the guards tried to get a better grip. Gradually, they managed to get it up high enough for Maffew to see the underside. Before he could examine it, he heard a curse from Vvoxx. "Damn! He's gone!" Maffew turned to look at Vvoxx. "He's not in there?" "He could still be in that damn ship, but if he is we'd never find him! Those corridors go on forever." Vvoxx then saw what Maffew was doing. "Oh, drop that thing, will you?" "In a minute," Maffew said. "OK guys, flip it over." The guards heaved, and the piece of metal hit the ground hard. "Careful, you idiots!" Maffew said, testily. He bent down to check the metal. Despite the drop, it appeared intact. "Hey, I think there's writing here," he said. He began to gently brush the dirt from the wreckage. Gradually, he saw he was right. "It is writing," he exclaimed. Vvoxx came over, curious despite his initial annoyance at losing the Doctor. Vvoxx read off the letters. "DISE EXPLO POD 1." He looked at Maffew. "Paradise Explorer, do you think?" "I think you're right. Then this comes from the original survey of the planet." Maffew looked at the wreckage with new appreciation. "That makes this over a hundred years old." Vvoxx nodded in agreement. "But if this pod came from the original survey ship, why did they need to jettison it? Surely they got back to Paradise-1 alright. Why was it hidden?" Maffew started looking around nervously. "And who uncovered it?" After a half an hour or so, the Doctor and Romana had been led to a cave entrance located high amongst the rocks. They were now walking through a tunnel, moving ever deeper, gradually leaving the heat of the surface behind them. "Where are we going?" Romana asked the man. He had not said anything since the TARDIS, and he still remained silent. "K-9, can you determine where we're going?" the Doctor asked. They heard the whirring of his ears. "Detecting large fissure in rock ahead, Master. Over 90% probability that is our destination." "Good boy," the Doctor said. "Romana, are you seeing what I'm seeing?" "If you mean the slight phosphorescence, yes," she said. "Are you sure we shouldn't try escaping?" she whispered. "Do not try to escape, please," the man said. "All will be revealed shortly." "Oh, good," the Doctor said. "One can only carry on being mysterious for so long before it becomes ostentatious." He heard Romana quietly harrumph. "Well, there are exceptions, of course." They finally reached the fissure K-9 had detected. It was wide enough for the Roach, but the creature stopped outside, as if on guard. The man continued through the hole, the Doctor and Romana following behind. They emerged into a very large cavern which stretched off into the distance. The ceiling was several hundred meters above their heads, invisible in the faint glow. Looking down, stalagmites were barely visible, and trundling among them were hundreds, perhaps thousands, of Roach creatures. Standing in the centre of the cavern sat a large

building. It looked like a pyramid with the top cut off. "Impressive," said the Doctor. "Home?" "Home," said the man and, after waving his hands, they began floating across the cavern towards the building. A few moments later, they touched down. The man turned to face the Doctor and Romana. "You have my thanks, Time Lords, for saving me." "You're welcome," the Doctor said. "Now perhaps you could explain exactly who it is we've saved." "Of course," the man said. "I was, once, a member of a planetary survey team, sent to explore this planet. We examined this planet completely and reported back to our government. In response, our government arrested us, sent us here, and crashed our ship. All survey team members died. Except me." "That's very lucky," the Doctor said. "That was your escape pod, I assume." "Yes. The government had disabled it, but I got it free." Romana spoke up. "But why would your government want you dead? You were a survey team." "There are a couple of reasons. This is the best way to explain it, I think," he said, and some images appeared in midair. The Doctor and Romana watched as the images passed by quickly. They saw a planet, green and luscious. They saw it grow less green and more red. As the red rapidly covered the planet, the image zoomed in. It showed the rocky surface of Paradise-2. It then focussed on two entwined energy creatures, darting amongst the Roach creatures. Suddenly, the image shook fiercely, and it showed the energy creatures flying apart. The image zoomed out again, showing two planets where there had only been one before. The image faded. "You saw the images, Time Lords. Do you understand?" The Doctor and Romana looked at each other. "Did you understand that, Romana?" She nodded. "Of course. Did you?" "Yes." He looked back at the man. "This isn't Paradise-2 at all, is it?" "Correct. This planet is, and always has been, Paradise. Only we are the Paradise of the future." "Which is something that, I gather, was not in the government's best interests to reveal to the Universe." "No." The Doctor chewed his thumb thoughtfully. "But what I'm not entirely sure of is what caused the Space/Time disruption in the first place." "The Disruption was caused by my twin." "Your twin?" Above them, one of the energy creatures from the images appeared. "My twin," it said. "I am the Ending, and my twin is the Beginning." "I see," said the Doctor. "Now why would he do that?" The man spread his arms wide, indicating the Roach creatures. The energy spoke again. "These creatures were, for centuries, the only source of our subsistence. Psychic energy. From them, we got the power to do virtually anything." "Aha!" the Doctor said, snapping his fingers. "So if you have the power to create a space/time warp from the remnants of energy that these creatures must give off..." "Then your powers must be increased immensely by using fresher psychic energy," Romana concluded.

"This is why you must stop my twin, Time Lords. Because if it is not, it shall drain the psychic energy from every living being until the Universe itself is dead."

Chapter Seven: "Alpha and Omega" by Tony Whitt "I am the Ending, and my twin is the Beginning." "I see," said the Doctor. "Now why would he do that?" The man spread his arms wide, indicating the Roach creatures. The energy spoke again. "These creatures were, for centuries, the only source of our subsistence. Psychic energy. From them, we got the power to do virtually anything." "Aha!" the Doctor said, snapping his fingers. "So if you have the power to create a space/time warp from the remnants of energy that these creatures must give off..." "Then your powers must be increased immensely by using fresher psychic energy," Romana concluded. "This is why you must stop my twin, Time Lords. Because if it is not, it shall drain the psychic energy from every living being until the Universe itself is dead." "I say," said the Doctor, "that's a fairly large leap to make, isn't it? How could your twin do something like that? And why is 'he' suddenly an 'it'?" The man frowned. "My twin no longer counts as 'human,' any more than I do. You've seen what the addition of random elements into the gestalt does to those within it. Your very presence has made me into a demi-Time Lord, just as the presence of these creatures have infected my twin at the Beginning." The Doctor put his face in his hands and gave a long sigh. "Let�s start all over again, from the beginning, shall we? No pun intended." The man then sighed in return and began his story, "from the top," as it were: Once upon a time there was a planet called Paradise. In the past, it lived up to its name, so much so that scores of alien races paid the planet a visit, many of whom were deadly enemies of one another. But there was something about the planet that kept them from bothering one another. There was something about the planet that no one knew about, except for Judge Bertram Gorelli. When he was a younger man, in addition to being a lawyer and a legal expert, Gorelli was the legal advisor for a team of researchers working for a government facility. The researchers were fascinated by the effects of their planet on the mind, as well as by the fact that no crimes had ever been committed there since the human colony had been established. They had conducted all manner of experiments on the air, the water, the planetary radiation, to determine what, if anything, made Paradise such a paradise. Eventually they decided to check the soil. That was their first mistake. The creatures in the soil were unique. They not only produced natural waves of psychic energy which canceled negative thoughts and

feelings, they also had an unusual ability to alter time. Researchers noticed that bits of food and other objects placed in the cages of the creatures would either decay rapidly or revert back to its earliest states. They decided to alter the creatures, to see what would happen if they could harness both the psychic energy and the temporal shifting ability. That was their second mistake. The few survivors of the resulting explosion included Gorelli, but a very changed Gorelli. He and the rest of the survivors turned their back on the research or so everyone believed and turned their attentions to building a new justice system on the planet which would take advantage of the twin planet which had suddenly and spectacularly appeared closer to the sun. A planetary survey was sent to the new world and returned with some startling information about it, information given to them by the insect creatures which roamed across its surface. But by the time they returned, Gorelli had already introduced the creatures which now lived beneath his skin forebears of those larger and more mature creatures which had warned the survey to various members of the government. The ship's crew was sent back to the newly named Paradise-2, the first of many prisoners sent there under the new, far stricter laws of Paradise-1's regime laws which no one seemed to notice at all, until they were sentenced under them. Nor did anyone seem to notice how long the Judge had been serving, how he'd been elected, or even how often people were being convicted for crimes they supposedly committed when they were elsewhere. The immature creatures had formed a gestalt, and influenced by the inner desires of the men they inhabited, men who had become decadent from living on a world without crime or fear, they wanted more. They inspired their hosts to create an alternate reality net for the prisoners sent to Paradise-2, one which would use the psychic energy of the mature creatures living there to keep the prisoners in their dream worlds while their bodies slowly roasted. Slowly, because the second group of prisoners sent to Paradise-2 were Salamandoids, with that race's ability to endure heat over long periods of time. Romana's eyes widened. "So each race sent to this planet inadvertently contributed its own abilities to the gestalt, just by being linked to it?" she asked. The man nodded his head solemnly. "And to the other prisoners," he replied. "The ones who remained alive, that is. I was the first recipient of the Salamandoids' heat resistance, but as you saw when you arrived, it was almost too late. My body had already been ravaged by the heat my twin had not had his minions set up heat-resistance cells for the prisoners yet. A typical oversight on his part. But the infusion of their resistance kept my body from deteriorating further, so that the only thing that truly suffered was my mind. I believed I was a prisoner at first, sent here by the Judge as so many others had been, without a trial and without being told what my crime was I did not know I was receiving the thoughts of all those prisoners within the gestalt." He smiled. "I'm better now." The Doctor, meanwhile, had been pacing up and down the console room furiously. He stopped and whirled to look at the man, nearly overbalancing and falling over in the process. "But this is appalling!" he shouted. "If I'm reading you right, your twin must be planning to extend the increasing space/time warp between these two planets outwards, to extend the powers of the gestalt! If they extend their gestalt beyond this planet, then nothing could stop them!"

"No, Doctor, nothing could stop them, except for you. You must stop my twin." The Doctor stared at him. "And how do you propose I do that?" "By simply staying here," the man replied, and smiled again. "As soon as you and your companion were brought into the gestalt, an alternate time sense was introduced, and the temporal discontinuity between the two worlds was worsened. No one on Paradise-1 had ever noticed the travesties of justice the Judge had committed, until you came along and your defense attorney whom you've met and haven't met, by the way was able to see it for the first time. That discontinuity is increasing, especially now that your defense attorney is part of the dreamscape. Your abilities as Time Lords to perceive Time in a special way, one similar to that of our friends out there, disrupted the immature creatures' hold on our populace. Soon more and more people will notice what has been happening, and everything will stop." "You seem awfully well informed for someone whose skin was melting away only a little while ago," the Doctor said. But then he rubbed his nose and grinned. "You know, though, I think everything's finally making sense." "Is it?" Romana said with a frown. "Maybe you wouldn't mind explaining it to me when you have a few centuries to spare, then." "Don't you see it already? Our time sense isn't compatible with that of the immature creatures down there and back then on Paradise-1 but it works with the mature creatures here and now on Paradise-2. Though," he said with an even broader grin, keeping his eye on Romana, "if that's called Paradise-1, this place should really be called Paradise Lost!" His face fell when she merely frowned in response. "No? You don't think so? Oh, well, I liked it, anyway." He raised his hand and started ticking off his fingers. "We land here, get zapped into the Judge's dreamworld gestalt somehow, the mature creatures' time sense sends part of those fantasy images back through time to our prior selves, hence resulting in our conversations about our relationship..." "Yes," Romana drawled, running a tired hand through her hair, "I did think that was rather odd, me considering a relationship with you..." "...and making a mess of K-9, who has no time sense at all. Hang on, why would having a relationship with me be so odd? Hmm?" The man ignored the Doctor's attack of indignation and said, "The effect you've just described is continuing to move backwards through Time even as we speak. Your special relationship to time is slowly pervading the gestalt, even at the Beginning, and soon the entire temporal system will collapse in on itself. The creatures outside are now acknowledging me as the control which will bring the convergence back together, and they recognize you as the factor which has allowed me to realize what I must do. They are pushing the temporal discontinuity backwards, shaping the events that will lead these two planets to become one again. All you must truly do, Doctor, is stay here. For a brief while longer." "Well, it's nice to know my presence is so sought after," the Doctor muttered, "but I really don't see how ow!" He clutched his head and winced, even as Romana did the same. The pain subsided, and the Doctor looked up at the man again. "Look, old thing, while we're in a reminiscent mood, perhaps you wouldn't mind explaining what's causing all this pain, or these bizarre flashes we've been having?" "Oh, yes," the man replied, "that was the other thing I'd been meaning to tell you." Vvoxx and Maffew had carefully made their way back to the control

center, where the readings were going ever so slightly haywire. "What's causing this?" Maffew asked, tapping a button and looking at the resulting data stream. "According to this, the Doctor's pattern inside the gestalt is equalizing to his pattern outside it!" Vvoxx's eyes widened. "That's not possible! That would mean that his real self is aware of his dream self's existence and vice versa! How could that have happened?" "To hell with that," Maffew replied. He bit his lower lip and looked up at Vvoxx. "The question now is, what sort of effect is that going to have on the gestalt?" Vvoxx was about to reply when something on the boards caught his attention. He tapped a few keys to bring up one figure, then checked it against another one. "Maffew," he muttered, "why are there suddenly one hundred and seventy-five more prisoners in the gestalt than there were an hour ago?" "What?" Maffew shoved Vvoxx out of the way to look at the numbers, but Vvoxx was too stunned to take offense. He watched as Maffew brought up the numbers again, then brought up a figure from several hours before. Then he turned and stared at Vvoxx for a long moment, so long, in fact, that Vvoxx finally whispered, "What is it?" Maffew's voice was equally quiet when he replied. "Vvoxx, do you ever remember checking these numbers before?" Vvoxx was about to snap at Maffew in response, something about always being conscientious in his duties or some other such empty retort, but the question caught him off guard. He thought about it for a full minute before Maffew saw his face go pale. "No," he replied, "no, I don�t. Do you?" "No!" Maffew hissed. "I'm surprised I even knew how to do it! Aren't we supposed to be doing that every time a prisoner is transferred?" "Well, of course we are, but..." Maffew didn't think it was possible for Vvoxx to go paler, but he did. "Maffew, do you remember the last time we had a transfer?" Now it was Maffew's turn to think. Finally he slowly shook his head. "I can't remember EVER getting a transfer. Good gods, how have they all been getting here?" "And more to the point," said Vvoxx, sounding less fearful and more angry by the moment, "what have we been doing up here all this time?" All over Paradise-1, both inhabitants and vacationers alike experienced an odd sensation, as if they'd been asleep for a very long time and were just now waking up. A Sontaran woke up on a beach towel beside the Rutan he'd been chatting amiably with about the war between their two races just ten minutes before and pummeled it to death, electrocuting himself in the process. A city street was sent into disarray as the Dalek that had been gliding slowly along it, minding its own business, suddenly remembered what its business actually was and started exterminating people left and right. The note of panic in its ongoing cries of "Exterminate!" were far too obvious to on-lookers not that they could adequately reflect upon it as they too were panicking. Those scores of alien races paying the planet a visit, many of whom were deadly enemies of one another, were now remembering that they were deadly enemies of one another, creating utter chaos in the streets, on the beaches, in private homes. Many people wondered where the law enforcers were and why this monsters weren't being rounded up and sent straight to Paradise-2. Then people began to wonder about that: how it was done, why they'd never

seen it happen, why it took such a short time, and how sentence was often carried out before the accused was even tried. Every inconsistency they'd never noticed before came crashing home to them in that moment, and they were not happy. They weren't the only ones, of course. The lone figure still sat in the centre of a web of televisions, images from Paradise flickering on the walls before, beside, behind and above. But his skin no longer crawled with anticipation. The plan he'd planned out and had planned for him was suddenly, spectacularly, going wrong. One of the screens beeped in front of him. The image changed to show two of his assistants, two researchers from the lab who shared his link with Them, the same two researchers who had used morphing masks to impersonate the Doctor and his companion Romana -- when was that? Gorelli realized with a shock that he suddenly could not remember when the sentencing had been carried out, and realized with a further shock that his time sense was slowly dissipating. The heady winds of Futuretime were quickly turning to gale force winds, blowing dust and decay. He wrenched his attention from his failing time sense and looked at the two young people though they'd only really been young a hundred years ago, when all three of them and the rest of the researchers had stopped aging. "Yes?" he snapped. "Do you feel it?" said the faux Doctor Gorelli had forgotten the chap's name at the moment. "The gestalt is shifting!" "Yes, I can feel it," he growled. "Why are you calling me about it? Why aren't you out getting new producers for the gestalt? We've got to keep it strong so that we can create the warp!" "We've been trying," replied the faux Romana again, Gorelli could not remember her name, and again, he didn't notice his forgetfulness or its implications "but we were noticed the last time, and we've been on the run! The law enforcers are noticing everything now, including the time stamp discrepancies!" Gorelli pounded the arm of his chair with his fist. "Those damned Time Lords," he muttered. "They've somehow corrupted the gestalt." "What... what do WE do?" the faux Doctor asked, but Gorelli had completely forgotten him at this point. He flicked off the screen just as a mob of law enforcers came up behind the couple and pummeled them to the ground. Gorelli flipped another switch and looked at the figures for the trial courts. All over the planet, his off-shoots the Judges that none of the people had noticed looked exactly like each other presided before empty courts, unable to immediately transfer any new producers into the gestalt. Their time senses were fading, too, and he would lose them if he didn't draw them back into himself now. He reached out with what little power They could still give him and drew the slices of his personal timestream back into himself. If the gestalt could not provide the power for the time/space warp, then he would have to do it himself. Slowly he felt the power build. Maurrice still wasn't returning the smile. The Doctor hadn't seen him this angry since the Doctor had decided at the last minute to do that ridiculous book about the androids and the Kraals when he was supposed to be writing a Gothic horror tale. The memory made the Doctor wince, and not just at the recollection of how bad that story turned out to be. He put a hand to his temple and

remembered that it wasn't just some bad story he'd written when he'd gotten bored of the whole Gothic thing it was a bad story he'd actually lived through. He again looked at the man across the room, wearing his daughter's clothes or was it his daughter's body? He was finding it hard to distinguish between the two, all of a sudden and had a brief flash of another room with bright white walls and a hexagonal console set in the centre. He recognized it as the TARDIS console room from one of his books, and he recognized his wife, the strange robotic thing he'd found in the garage, and someone who was watching him closely, with a slowly spreading smile. The vision of the console room faded away, and his comfortable, well-appointed home swam back into view but now he saw it for what it was. "How extraordinary," he said, pushing back the hat on his head which had not been there a moment before and peering around the room as if seeing it for the first time. "So, this is my dream home, is it? Not much to look at, if you ask me, especially if I'm the main writer on a successful range of science fiction books. My publishers obviously aren't paying me a living wage." He turned and offered his hand to Maurrice, who refused to take it. "Hello! I take it you must be one of our captors, yes? One of those researchers that my new friend back in the real world has been telling me about?" Maurrice bristled, but he kept his voice low as he asked, "How did you know?" The Doctor shrugged and smiled. "Oh, well, when you've seen as many jailkeepers as I have, you get to know the type. Obviously this Judge person always feared that someone would break out of his fantasy world, so he set you here as a permanent jailer to put things back on track. Must be a terrible job, playing a bit part in other people's false lives, eh? And I imagine that control pyramid in the cave must be getting terribly overloaded by now, what with all the people waking up from their dreaming." Maurrice frowned even more deeply. "You knew about that too, I see." "As soon as I saw it though I imagine our insectoid friends out there would love to have their toy back, don't you think?" He turned to Tommathan and grinned broadly. "And you must be my unsuccessful defense attorney!" He rushed to him and shook his hands warmly. "Good to see you again, though I don't remember ever meeting you, which is all right, mind you, since I don't remember meeting everyone I've met. You understand, don't you?" "N-no," replied Tommathan nervously. "No, no, of course you don't," the Doctor replied, patting Tommathan's back. "I imagine that when you were sentenced here, your deepest desire was to find me, wasn't it? You know, I do so like a lawyer who follows up with his clients. And with your lot weakened by my gloriously disruptive presence," he added, pointing at Maurrice before turning back to Tommathan, "you were able to join us in our fantasy world." He gave a brief and disdainful glance at the room again. "Such as it is. And that would explain your charming attire, too!" He drew Tommathan close and whispered, "You really don't want to be wearing that frock, do you? It's not quite your colour, you know." While the Doctor was talking, Tommathan slowly put the pieces together. He felt a force from outside his mind trying hard to take his newfound realizations away, but he ignored them. "No," he said again, his voice far stronger than it had been before. "No, Doctor, I don't." "Good man!" the Doctor said, as Tommathan concentrated and reformed his body and clothing into his own form and into the suit he wore on

court days. "And now you even look like a good man." He stopped for a moment and peered closely at Tommathan before whispering, "Erm, I don't think you have it quite right... Tommathan, isn't it?" "Yes, Doctor?" "Um, I don't know quite how to say this, but... you have a woman's bottom." The Doctor cleared his throat and left Tommathan to complete his self-transformation, turning to fix Maurrice with a hard stare. The man had not shifted during their exchange instead, he glared at the two of them as if trying to strike them dead with a glance. Come to think of it, the Doctor reflected, that's probably exactly what he's trying to do, and it's not working. How frustrating for him, he though, and said so. Maurrice responded by pulling out a gun. "Ah, I see," the Doctor said. "The old saw about dying in reality if you die in your dreams, is that it? How terribly crude and mid-80's of you." "Crude it may be," Maurrice growled, " but dead is still dead, and now that we you�re your Time Lord abilities we don't need you anymore, nor do we need the dreams of the producers. This is but a momentary set-back. As soon as the Judge pulls himself together, the time/space warp will be formed, and our glorious gestalt will move out into the universe, bringing" "Oh, do shut up," said a voice behind him, as a book hurtled out of the darkness and hit him square in the back of the head. Romana stepped over Maurrice's unconscious form and dusted her hands before grinning at the Doctor. "Perhaps we should be getting back to the real world now?" The Doctor reached down and picked up the heavy volume she'd used to knock Maurrice out. He looked at the cover and smiled. "Ha! 'The Doctor Who Omnibus'! Who said science fiction had no merit?" "Doctor," Romana said warningly, "I really do think we should get out of here. What he said about the Judge 'pulling himself together' didn't sound like a euphemism to me." "Quite right," the Doctor said, raising a decisive finger. The gesture would have looked even more impressive had he not already opened the book and started scanning the pages with interest. Without looking up, he said, "Tommathan, you go with Romana. I imagine your real body is out on the planet's surface somewhere, but we'll come find you when it all blows over. Now that you're in the gestalt, you'll be safe from the heat." Tommathan frowned. "Wait, when all WHAT blows o...?" He vanished in mid-sentence. "Romana, be a good girl and send K-9 out after him when you get back to the console room, will you?" said the Doctor, still not looking up from the book. He laughed at something he'd read. "Oh, that really was quite clever of me. K-9 should be right as rain now that the convergence is falling apart. See to it, will you?" "Of course, 'dear,'" Romana replied with a grin, before she too vanished. The Doctor closed the book, still laughing, and looked again at the cover. "'Doctor Who,' indeed. Who comes up with this stuff?" The book dropped to the floor beside Maurrice as the Doctor vanished. Tommathan woke up in the blistering heat. All around him, on an uneven and rocky plane, people in various states of shabbiness and sunburn lay

on the ground, some of them waking up, some of them muttering in their now troubled sleep. Despite the hideous heat, though, none of them were seriously burned, and Tommathan was amazed to find he didn't feel the heat as keenly as he normally would have. "Objective located, Mistress," said a robotic-sounding voice from a rise just above him. He looked up to see what looked like a robot dog peering down at him, standing beside a short woman with flowing blond hair. She stood there looking down at him, her hands on her hips and a cheeky grin on her face. Despite the fact that she was wearing what looked to be some sort of bathing costume, the heat didn't seem to be bothering her, either. "Mr. Tommathan, I presume?" she said. The roach-like creatures sensed they were no longer needed around the pyramid holding the gestalt together and began moving out of the cave. En masse, they moved towards the voice of their Master, the voice they'd been waiting for ever since the temporal convergence began. As they moved out onto the surface, they noticed several of the humans that they had sometimes used as food when the humans had died were now waking up and looking around. The humans had a variety of reactions to the creatures, but the creatures didn't pay them any heed. Slowly they made their way to the blue box standing in the middle of the hot plains. Gorelli had given himself over to Them now, and as a result there was precious little of his human form left. In his place stood a energy creature, a mass of psychic energy created by the Judge's combined temporal splinters and by the power of the creatures who lived beneath what was left of his skin. As what was once Gorelli stretched out his arms, the televisions around the room exploded in a blaze of light. *Now, Doctor,* the creature thought rather than said, *we shall put your gifts to good use.* Inside the TARDIS, a similar transformation was going on. The man who was once a surveyor, once a Paradisian, once human, now shrugged off the last of his humanity as the creatures outside the TARDIS fed him with their combined strength. The Doctor, who was now in his right mind again (or as much in it as he ever was) watched the viewscreen in awe as the roach creatures beamed psychic energy through the TARDIS's shields. The blazing light turned the console room into a vast white haze. The Doctor cleared his throat. "Oh, don't mind me," he called. "I'll just sit here quietly in the corner till you need me, shall I?" Tommathan's wife Arraina picked her careful way through the crowded and dangerous streets, trying to make her way to the court room where Tommathan had been tried. The few Paradisians on Paradise-1 who weren't scrambling for their lives away from Daleks and Cybermen, or tearing the courts apart looking for records of their banished loved ones, were looting the shops and creating havoc, so she was the only one who noticed the lights in the sky. The being once known as Gorelli flew into the atmosphere and began to form the time/space warp. A stream of visible light connected Paradise-1 and Paradise-2 as the temporal converge between the two identical planets expanded and grew, forming the foundation of a new

temporal anomaly.

Or it should have.

The Doctor shielded his eyes with his scarf as the glow of the being before him grew ever more intense, but it was no good. The light was bleeding through the knitted wool, bleeding through his eyelids, and now he had flashes back to the man this used to be, and those horrible melted eyes. Just when he thought he could take no more, he felt some sort of change in the console room, like the shift in the atmosphere just before rain the proverbial calm before the storm. *Thank you for all your help, Doctor,* he heard a voice say in his mind. *Now it's my turn.* The sound blasted through his ears as if a full-scale hurricane had been set loose in the TARDIS console room, and the Doctor found himself clutching for any handhold he could find to keep from being blown away with it. Just as his hand grabbed hold of the hat rack in the corner, however, the winds subsided just as swiftly as they'd come. Slowly, he took his hat away from his face and the scarf away from his eyes. The console room was completely empty. On the viewscreen, the roach creatures were now staring upward at a trail of light which shot through the dark, arid atmosphere and out into space. "Well," the Doctor said to no one in particular, "you don't get to see that every day, do you?" Had the Doctor or Romana been at an adequate vantage point to see the two energy beings meet each other in space, they would have been reminded of the images their guest had shown them in the console room. The two creatures intertwined with one another, just as they had once before, wrestling for control of the warp which was now forming between the two planets. But one was far larger, far stronger, far more mature than its counterpart. Though last time it had been thrown to the surface of Paradise-2 where it bonded with a dying surveyor, it had had a century to prepare for this moment. The other creature had begun this, but the larger creature would finish it. Instead of flying apart as they once had done, causing a planet to split into two separate time zones, the creatures fused together, becoming one as the larger one absorbed the smaller one. The smaller one fought as hard as it could, but the vast influx of energy it had had last time was now gone. The being that was once Bertram Gorelli gave a last very human-sounding shriek that was lost in the airless vacuum, and then he was gone. The glowing column of light between the two worlds still hung impossibly in the darkness of space. The being now reached out its hands in both directions and pulled and just as impossibly, Paradise-2 began to move. Romana, Tommathan, and K-9 had just made it back to the TARDIS as the trembling began. On the way there, K-9 had been caught by a stray falling rock and damaged, and as Romana carried him into the console room, the earthquake threw she and Tommathan to the ground. "Hang on!" the Doctor shouted. He was still holding uselessly onto the hat rack in the corner. The people of Paradise-1 were treated to a horrifying spectacle as they watched Paradise-2 barreling down the column of light like a vast

planet-sized comet. They screamed, wept, cried in fear as they watched their death racing towards them. Then, at the moment which should have been the moment of impact, they turned to each other in puzzlement as Paradise-2 vanished completely. On one of the few street corners not completely vandalized in the riots, a tall blue box silently appeared. The door opened, and the Doctor, Romana, and Tommathan stepped out. The Doctor took a deep breath, had a brief coughing fit, and then sighed contentedly as if the coughing fit had never happened. "Ah," he said hoarsely, "isn't togetherness wonderful?" "I don't understand," Tommathan said. "What happened?" "Romana, why don't you field that one?" the Doctor replied as he picked up a bit of glass from the street and examined it closely. "I think I've done enough explaining for one day." Romana frowned at his back, but when she turned to Tommathan she treated him to that cheeky grin again. "It's really quite simple. Judge Gorelli and our guest... Doctor, did we ever ask his name?" The Doctor grunted negatively. "Oh, poo," Romana said. "That was really quite rude of us. Anyway, Gorelli and our guest turned themselves into psyhic energy creatures and fused back together, which also brought the two time zones of Paradise, its present and its future, back together. I imagine that when Gorelli got that first infusion of energy during that experiment a hundred years ago, he was thrown forward into the future, and the roach creatures the evolved descendants of those that live in your soil now used their psychic energy to defend themselves. They accidentally split him into two aspects one half good and the other half evil, probably, since that's the way these things always seem to go and in doing so they managed to split the planet's time stream, as well. The good half ended up on 2, the bad half ended up here." Tommathan shook his head. "And you call that 'really quite simple'?" "Oh, yes," Romana smiled. "When you've spent as much time with the Doctor as I have, almost anything makes sense." The Doctor ignored her comment and pretended to peer into the glass more closely. "But why didn't they come together sooner?" Tommathan asked. "Not enough power," Romana explained. "Gorelli was down here trying to raise enough power to form a new time/space warp to carry his gestalt into space, but it was never enough for his good twin to heal himself and force them to merge back together. " "But then you came along," Tommathan said, finally getting it. "But then we came along," Romana said. "Gorelli must have seen us coming and thought we'd provide enough power to finally form his warp. Instead, all we did was warp local space-time enough to give ourselves some ludicrous ideas both in the present and in the past, disrupt the gestalt so that Gorelli and his followers couldn't use it properly, and bring our guest back to his right mind." Tommathan grinned. "'All you did,' eh?" Romana blushed. "Well, it does sound like rather a lot, doesn't it?" "So, where is the energy creature now?" Tommathan asked. The Doctor suddenly sprang to his feet. "Look, do you expect us to know everything? If it weren't for your ham-fisted defense in the first place " "Now, Doctor..." "Besides," the Doctor said, refusing to look at Tommathan directly,

"you appear to have someone waiting for you." He gestured towards the street. "Tommathan?" a voice cried. Tommathan looked up to see Arraina rushing towards him, a huge smile on her face and tears streaming down her cheeks. Forgetting the Doctor and Romana for a moment, he ran into the street and swept her into his arms. All around them, friends were greeting friends, lovers were greeting lovers, brothers were greeting sisters as all the former prisoners of Paradise-2 reappeared on the streets of Paradise and found themselves free. Several technicians, dressed in outfits looking like a cross between doctor's outfits and military gear, also appeared, looking around themselves in puzzlement. They started chattering loudly and happily to each other, and Romana could just hear one call the other "Vvoxx" or something. "Let's get out of here while we can," the Doctor muttered, still looking at the piece of glass. Romana got on tip-toe and leaned towards his ear. "You didn't want to admit we didn't know what happened to the energy creature, did you?" "Certainly not," the Doctor replied, finally throwing the glass into a nearby refuse bin and dusting his hands. "I'm confused enough as it is already." As he turned to open the door, Romana said, "Speaking of confusion, Doctor, why did the gestalt put us in a dream world where we were married? And why was it influencing us to think in terms of a relationship between us?" She heard the Doctor cough. "Ah," he said. "Well, we'll have to talk about that, won't we? Preferably after a good vacation. Honestly, first Argolis and now this." But Romana was no longer listening. She was looking across the street at a little girl who was looking back longingly at her. A hazy memory of a comfortable home, a loving husband, and a darling daughter played through Romana's mind for a moment, and she found herself starting to move away from the TARDIS and into the street. But at just that moment, a voice called out, "Kris! Kris, my baby, Kris!" A middle-aged man and woman ran from the opposite corner towards the little girl, who turned her attention from Romana and burst into tears. She ran for the couple in turn, shouting, "Mummy! Daddy!" The three of them met in the middle of the street and held each other tightly, as if afraid they'd be separated once again. "Romana!" shouted the Doctor from inside the TARDIS. Romana came to herself with a start and blinked. Something was clouding her vision. She reached up, touched her cheek, and looked down at her damp fingertips. Odd, that, she thought. "Romana!" the Doctor shouted again. "Are you coming or not?" Romana wiped the tears away from her eyes and cleared her throat. "Yes, I'm coming!" she shouted. She moved quickly to the doors, but before she went into the TARDIS, she looked back. The happily reunited family were walking away down the street now, but the little girl was looking back over her shoulder, a smile on her own tear-streaked face. Her smile broadened, and she waved. Romana smiled, returned the wave, and hurriedly got into the TARDIS, before she could allow herself to start missing something she could never have. A groaning, wheezing sound filled the air, and the TARDIS vanished into time.

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