Doctor Who Forgotten Suns Chapter Twelve

The Doctor was feeling distinctly flustered (and not a little out of puff!) by the end of his whirlwind dash through the lizard-alien’s vessel.

Ever since being brought aboard, he had been rushed through a bewildering array of airlocks: followed by almost organically designed passageways and junctures, with circular doorways that spiraled open in a most unexpected fashion. His reptilian escorts were politely uncommunicative for the most part, completely ignoring his increasingly worried questions. They did, however, appear to be most concerned for his welfare, taking great care not to harm him - for which he was profoundly grateful! (These people were considerably stronger than they looked - and the Doctor had thought that they looked rather strong in the first place!)

He was fairy convinced that his feet hadn’t actually touched the deck of the ship for much of the journey. It was only when he was ushered into a small enclosed chamber, and he was finally settled down onto its floor, that one of the soldiers spoke to him. “We now take this rapid transit pod to the command hub, Thadokta,’ it said, ‘where you shall meet with Clade Commander Silandor.”

The other trooper had tapped a pad that caused the entryway to iris closed, then selected the destination… just as the Doctor had begun to reply. “Indeed. Most kind. I’m so glad that we’re talking again. Perhaps you could tell me - Oh my goodness!”

The Doctor would have fallen flat on his back at the sudden violent upwards motion, but his two guides had each held him steady. Evidently they were totally unfazed by the ‘pods’ speed, unlike the Doctor. “Well, I can see why you call it ‘rapid transit’ now! Is it really necessary to go this fast? I mean - just how big is your ship?”

“Apologies for the haste, Thadokta,’ said the larger soldier, suddenly loquacious, ‘your presence needs to be known to as few as possible. In answer to your question, the Indigo Flame is the largest vessel in the fleet! Normally it is not necessary to go this fast, but we were ordered to get you to the Clade Commander - unseen - without delay.” By the way that the pod was already beginning to slow, the Doctor assumed that this objective was about to be achieved. Sure enough, another of those ubiquitous portals irised open on the opposite side from the entrance. At the gentle insistence of his smaller escort, the Doctor stepped out into a brightly lit command center.

It was clearly a highly sophisticated starship bridge, even though the Doctor had surmised that this ‘Command Hub’ was located at the very center of the vessel. He had only a brief impression of the place, however - his attention immediately focusing on the huge screen that dominated the front of the room. The display was quartered, and in one section he was startled to recognize Jamie’s bloodied face. “Oh my word!’ he cried out in alarm, ‘Jamie! What have you done to Jamie?”

Before he had even finished speaking, the Doctor was racing to the front, where a railing overlooked a lower level of crewed workstations. He hardly even noticed the alien standing at a station beside him: was only aware of his friend on the screen as he gripped the rail. “Jamie! Can you hear me? What is happening over there?” He shouted desperately.

“I’m afraid he cannot hear you, Thadokta. We have only been able to establish a one-way link to the Ship of The Ancients.” The voice almost made the Doctor jump, so wrapped up was he in his concern for his companion. He turned to the speaker, a most impressive example of these reptilian aliens.

“That seems a little slip-shod, I must say!’ He snapped irritably. ‘This is clearly a very advanced craft - surely your technology can run to a better communications system than that?”

“There are… complications…”

The Doctor interrupted in agitation. “Never mind, never mind all that!” But then he forced himself to relax somewhat and, rubbing his hands together nervously, continued in a more conciliatory tone. “Please, forgive me, but I’m sure that you can understand my concern. Why is my friend being mistreated, and where is Zoe? I can’t see her on any of those screens!’ He studied the figure before him, but received no reply, so added. ‘I take it that you are the Clade Commander?”

“No,’ came a quiet but powerful voice from behind him, ‘that would be me.’ The Doctor turned around to see an even more intimidating looking alien. It was standing before an impressive looking seat on a raised dais, but the Doctor realized that the Commander would have towered over him anyway, even if they were standing on the same level. He was reminded of the Ice Warrior, Varga, in terms of bulk: but in this instance composed of sheer muscle, rather than armor. “You are welcome here, Thadokta, but I would prefer to deal with your questions myself. I am Clade Commander Silandor, you are now aboard the Indigo Flame, flagship of the space fleet of the Oortelian Hegemony.”

Silandor indicated the alien - the Oortelian - that the Doctor had been talking to. “Sub-Commander Talamane is my second-in-command, she will assume control of the Hub while we talk in private. Please join me up here, Thadokta.”

On hearing that this Talamane was a female, the Doctor almost did a double-take, (she was easily a head taller than himself;) but he managed to turn it into a courtly bow - just in time remembering not to smile. She merely blinked her peculiar eyes at him, then returned to whatever she had been doing at her work station. The Doctor was unsure what to make of this, but his desire for answers was unabated, so he hurried over to the Commander. “If we are to be friends,’ he said as he gingerly stepped up onto the dais, ‘and I do hope that we are, then my name is actually just… Doctor.”

“Dokta?”

“Close enough! And if it is not against your rules or traditions, would it be permissible for me to address you by name? Clade Commander Silandor could become a bit of a mouthful, I fear!” The Doctor was finding it difficult to restrain his natural bonhomie, but was careful to keep his face as still as he could. As he came to stand before Silandor, he found himself eye-to-eye with the Oortelian - even though the fellow was now sitting down! At his invitation, the Doctor went to stand to the side of the Commander’s seat, while the Oortelian made some adjustments to a panel mounted on a swing-arm before him.

“Indeed, Dokta, we are in agreement. You shall call me Silandor, but only whilst inside my privacy field, if you don’t mind.’ The Doctor - who had inevitably found his attention drawn back to the wall-mounted screen - was about to ask what Silandor meant, when everything around the Command podium became blurred. ‘Before you ask, Dokta, we are now able to converse without disturbing my crew. I don’t usually operate the interference mode, but I find it necessary on this occasion, as I require your undivided attention. Would you like me to tell you about your companions first?”

“Oh! Yes, please, I would like that very much!”

“Then it shall be so,’ confirmed Silandor, tapping his currently blank personal screen with a decisive claw. ‘I can show you a replay of all that has transpired since you left the other ship, but I would rather give you a brief summary first, so that we can move on to my own questions. You claim to have seen a giant being over there?”

“Yes, indeed. He very nearly stepped on us!”

“Hmm… It came back. My team were just on the way to collect your companions, when they encountered it. Your friend on the screen was not being attacked by my people, I assure you - but he was being restrained. When we first saw him he was attempting to assault The Ancient - I shall explain that term later - but it tossed him aside: evidently the Ancient has taken your other companion, and he had to be prevented from pursuing it.”

“Ah… yes. That does sound like Jamie - a very head-strong young man… er… Did you actually see Zoe?”

Silandor paused before answering Thadokta’s question, his tongue snaking out rapidly. Once. Twice. “I saw something, Dokta, but I cannot honestly say I was entirely… focused on the matter at the time. I must assume that it was your Zoee that the Ancient took away, but when I explain more you will understand, perhaps, my inattention. But that must wait. You say that the Ancient almost stepped on you - did you see its face?”

“Er, no, as a matter of fact we didn’t, he was wearing a full-face helmet - does it matter?” The Doctor was confused by the question, and was still trying to work out its significance, when Silandor abruptly changed the subject.

“We Oortelians have always believed that, apart from the legendary Ancients, we were the only intelligent life in the Universe. Evidently this is not the case. Please tell me what you were doing on that ship, and what your connection is to the Ancients.”

“I have never heard of these ‘Ancients’ before today, I can assure you! If you were watching when I told Specialist Palasar what happened, you will already know that we arrived on that ship totally by accident!” replied the Doctor indignantly. (Why did everyone he met in his travels always assume that he was responsible for… whatever predicament he had so innocently stumbled into?)

Silandor regarded him with glacial calm, then said softly, “Details, please.”

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably, then, as he unconsciously rubbed his chin, admitted. “That is rather a difficult request, Silandor. To be honest, I’m still not entirely sure exactly what happened. We were traveling in the… in my ship, when we suddenly encountered some, um… turbulence. Extremely violent turbulence at that! The situation was pretty desperate for a while, I don’t mind telling you! Well, somehow we managed to, er… land, but we didn’t have any idea where we were. Or how we got there…

‘That is the truth, Silandor, I assure you.”

The Oortelian Commander regarded him with unreadable eyes, then slowly blinked his nictitating membranes - a slightly unnerving display of control over what should have been an involuntary reflex. “Accepted as told.’ Silandor said, almost too quietly for the Doctor to hear. Then the Commander shifted uncomfortably in his seat, appearing to look inward for a moment, before saying, “Tell me, Dokta… This may seem like an odd notion to you - but does your ship travel in time?”

To say that the Doctor was startled by this question out of nowhere would be the mother of all understatements! He gawped at the Oortelian in astonishment before managing to school his features, cautiously asking, “Time travel? Whatever gives you that idea?”

“Just an idle thought, Dokta,’ the Commander answered, with a casually dismissive wave of his hand, ‘there are anomalies involved here that you may be unaware of. However, I become increasingly convinced that you may be able to help me find the answers - I don’t really know why.”

He sat up decisively and clamped a comradely hand on the Doctor’s shoulder. (The Doctor manfully managed not to wince or stagger.) “It is decided!’ Silandor proclaimed, ‘I shall now provide the promised explanation of our situation.”

Still worried about what may even now be happening aboard the other ship, the Doctor protested strongly. “Do we have time for this, Silandor? What about my friends? What about my ship? I want to go back and help them… Now!”

Suddenly, Silandor was every inch the Clade Commander once more. His grip tightened on the Doctor’s shoulder and he drew him closer. Eye to alien eye, the Doctor strained to hear the Oortelian’s words. “I tell you this, Dokta. You live or die at my command…

‘But I do not wish to deprive myself of a potentially valuable ally. Know that I trust my subordinates to handle matters while I tell my story, and that I believe that you need to know what I am about to tell you.

‘It is not just your friends who may be at risk here, Dokta, but the beliefs of the entire Oortelian Hegemony could be threatened!”

“We Oortelians,’ Silandor began, ‘have been a star-faring people for many generations; but it is unlikely that we would have left our own solar system without certain… incentives. Or inspiration, if you prefer. Originally, simple curiosity drove us, as a species, to explore. Then overpopulation and dwindling resources led to the exploitation and colonisation of our own solar system. But there was no particular drive to expand further. Not for many generations.

Then, quite by accident, something astonishing was discovered on Indigo - the most Oortelia-like of the other planets. Fossil evidence that suggested a previous culture very different from our own; a radically different species, in fact. Forgive me if I gloss over much of the details, Dokta, this is a condensed account for the sake of brevity. Understand that this is where the story really starts. What those earlier settlers and explorers had discovered were merely fragments, but they led to an entirely new science dedicated to their study. Over many generations, more tantalising pieces of the puzzle were reclaimed from the depths: and then, remarkably, further evidence was found on Oortelia itself!

Personally, ever since first being apprised of The Hidden Archives - the secret history of our expansion into extra-solar exploration - I have had my own suspicions about the veracity of the Oortelia findings. I find it just a little too convenient that they came to light just when they did. However… I digress: suffice to say that it is unlikely that the Oortelian Hegemony would have developed as it did, without the impetus of the Ancients. For that is how they came to be known: an Oortelianoid species of huge dimensions - as extrapolated from fossilized bone fragments.

A science that verges on Imagineering, it seems to me, but presented convincingly enough to make believers of most.

Also, there were mystifying traces of exotic materials that defied explanation: hints at technologies that were so beyond Oortelian science as to be considered sheer fantasy, much of which we still do not understand. But there-in lies the core motivation for our species’ subsequent expansion into the void between the stars. The search for further evidence of the Ancient’s.

I do not boast, Dokta, when I say that our home planet has produced some exceptional minds. All that our species needed was the suggestion of proof that these impossible technologies could be achieved, and our science was advanced exponentially. It didn’t happen overnight, of course, and there were those - many of them - that were impatient to travel to other solar systems.

Naturally, scientific probes were sent to the nearest stars as soon as we had the ability - but Fleet wanted a more ‘claws-on’ approach. More ships - starships - and operational autonomy. The scientists were always speculating about the possibility of other intelligent life-forms… ‘Out There’. Fleet took these theories seriously, and wanted to be able to respond if any such theoretical beings turned out to be… hostile. The arguments and counter-arguments had been raging for years when the Ancient fossils and artifacts were ‘discovered’ on Oortelia itself. They may well have been genuine finds, perhaps I am just too suspicious, but regardless: Fleet immediately received the permission and funding, to head for distant stars.

Over the following generations, the starships of the Fleet explored far and wide, sometimes following earlier probes, other times following the advice of the scientists and theorists of the home system. By now these had split into various enclaves, each with their own specialties and interests. We found no higher life-forms. At least, nothing that could be considered sentient; but now that we knew what to look for, evidence of the Ancients existence - though rare - was still found. This fed the enthusiasm of the enclaves, naturally, and Fleet progressed.

This was all long before my time, Dokta, but it has fallen to me, I fear, to discover the truth behind the legends that we have been raised on.”

“Ah, yes,’ commented the Doctor, trying not to show his increasing impatience, ‘well, this is all quite fascinating, Silandor, ‘but is it really the time for a history lesson?”

“Be still, Dokta,’ the Clade Commander admonished, ‘I get to the meat of the matter soon. But there are two salient points that I want your thoughts on, as you will see. So… to the present. Not long ago, in relative terms, a message was finally received from one of our most venerable probes - it had been written off as lost, as a matter of fact. Once the telemetry had been examined and verified by the enclaves - and Fleet Intelligence - the Indigo Flame was tasked with investigating the probes findings.

As it appeared to have found a spaceship of alien origin…

Well… you can imagine the furor! From our point of view, any non-Oortelian intelligence had to be investigated, as a matter of utmost priority. For the enclaves, it was much more significant. You shall meet representatives of the enclaves soon, Dokta, so I shall leave their side of things to them.

However, I ask you to consider the following before going into that meeting. Firstly, on approaching the alien ship, the Indigo Flame appeared to encounter a temporal anomaly, hence my earlier question. Even when we came within visual range, and at maximum magnification could actually see the Ship of The Ancients - all any other sensors read was a void. I should mention that, prior to this, I had taken the precaution of excluding the enclave representatives from too much real-time information.

I would prefer that you kept this to yourself, Dokta.

In short, and I still don’t understand how this is possible, there appeared to be a bubble of… no, a sphere of… influence around the alien vessel; where-in time was running at a different rate. In fact, we had to make physical contact with the craft before I was really convinced it was truly there.

We were not expecting to find anything alive on what - we had thought - was a derelict wreck. Imagine the surprise that your existence caused! So, I would have you ponder this: the crew of our initial survey pod reported that their mission lasted exactly as long as planned - yet aboard the Flame, we saw things differently. From our perspective, outside this sphere of influence, we watched them slow down as they approached the vessel. The mission actually took four times longer than it should have, yet the crew noticed nothing amiss. Given this, I have to wonder just how much real time you have actually spent aboard the Ship of The Ancients. You can see why I am inclined to suspect that your… accident may have been temporal in nature?”

“Indeed, yes,’ the Doctor agreed, nodding thoughtfully, ‘I cannot fault your logic. If that ship has, er… manipulated time in some fashion, be it deliberate or accidental - well, that could explain why we were yanked off course. But I have no more idea about the causal factors involved than yourself, Silandor, although I am willing to offer my assistance, if it helps. Um… you mentioned that there was something else that you wanted to ask me?”

“This is true, Dokta,’ Silandor agreed, ‘and this is something that I find even more puzzling. As I told you, all of our knowledge of the Ancients comes purely from fossil records. Over many years, a very convincing picture has been constructed of their physical appearance: even the minutest fragment of fossilized skull, vertebrae, or finger-bone was factored into the process. There is no reasonable cause for doubt that they were Oortelianoid bipeds of unnatural size.”

“Well, I don’t really see what your problem is then. Surely that rather large chap over there merely confirms the theories, no?” asked the Doctor.

“Unfortunately not, Dokta. You see, the Ancient looked like you.”

“Me?” The Doctor yelped in shocked alarm.

Silandor hurried to reassure him. “No, forgive me, I phrased that badly. I don’t mean you personally, Dokta, I mean it had the same facial make-up as yourself and your friend, Jaymee. There was no fur on its head, but other than that the similarities are undeniable. So, once more, I am led to wonder if there is more to your presence here than you are willing to admit. But even more importantly - I have no idea how the enclaves will react if they find out the truth behind their beliefs.”

“But… But…’ the Doctor sputtered, “I don’t understand! Surely the existence of that vessel, and the fellow on board, proves that they have been correct all along! I should imagine that they will be very pleased!”

Silandor regarded him silently for a moment, then seemed to deflate slightly. “Obviously I have failed to explain myself clearly, Dokta… please, study this.’ He waved a claw around his face, as he turned his head one way then the other for the Doctor’s scrutiny, then looked at him coldly. Leaning forward once more, he beckoned the Doctor closer, almost whispering in his ear.

‘The Ancients were supposed to look like us …”