2157
Peter White stepped out from his farmhouse onto the gravel that ran around the perimeter of the house. He sniffed the air. Cut grass. He always liked that smell. It was a cold and frosty morning and he had just gotten up from one of the longest sleeps he'd had in a long time. He put his hands in his pockets and walked across the gravel to the field.
The grass crunched under his feet and had a layer of frost on it. In the distance the line of trees that ran along the bottom of his field was obscured by a thin veil of mist.
He smiled to himself. It was peaceful here. Quiet and peaceful. His family had lived in this farm house for generations, and, although it wasn't a working farmhouse any longer, he wouldn't have moved anywhere else. He felt calm and content here.
"Peter!" came his wife’s voice from behind him.
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it.
"Peter!" she called again, this time a little louder.
"What?" he called, his back still to her.
"We said we'd sort out the loft," said his wife.
"In a minute, Martha," he said.
"We haven't got all day," she said.
He turned to face her. She was part way in the house lugging a huge suitcase along the hallway. They had been married for forty years, but he was damned if he knew how they had lasted this long.
"We've got all the time in the world," said Peter. And he did. He had retired from his job at the valve company five years ago and Martha had retired three years before him. They had nothing else to do. He simply wanted to rest and enjoy his retirement.
"I need to get the dinner on," said Martha, finally coming to stop with the suitcase.
"It's 8:30 in the morning, woman," said Peter, checking his watch.
"You know how long gammon takes to cook," she said, breathlessly.
He turned back to the field one more time to see if he could spot the trees. They were even more obscured now. He smiled, closed his eyes again, and turned to head back to the farmhouse.
He was almost at the door when he thought he heard something up above. It sounded like one of those new proton-planes whizzing past. He frowned and gazed up into the sky.
Nothing.
"Peter," said Martha, exasperated, "will you come in and close the bloody door. You'll catch your death out there."
Peter looked at her lined face and her faded blue eyes. She still looked beautiful even now. They had spent a lifetime together, and then he remembered why he fell in love with her. It was her caring nature. He knew that she'd never let anything happen to him.
He smiled softly at her. "Sorry, love," he said.
And then the house exploded.
Peter was thrown through the air, landing about ten metres away from the burning building. He lay flat on his back staring up into the white, sunless sky as shapes and objects zoomed overhead with the same whizzing sound he had heard before. The objects were on fire and all around him he could hear explosions, some close by and some in the distance.
They were meteorites.
And then he remembered the house. Then he remembered Martha.
He quickly scrambled to his feet, almost fell over from going light-headed, and stared at the burning husk of what was once his old farmhouse.
He fell to his knees as the flames rose higher and higher into the sky. The heat coming from the house was that intense he had started to sweat.
Martha was gone.
Maxus awoke with a start. Tylaya was no longer next to him in the bed. He frowned and rubbed his forehead. He sat up in the bed and looked around the darkened room. There was a faint orange glow behind the roundels in their room and a gentle humming from the TARDIS machinery.
He got to his feet, put on his dressing gown and then, tying it up at the waist, made his way out of the room and down the corridor towards the console room.
When he got there Tylaya was already dressed and sat on the sofa with a cup of coffee. The Doctor was stood at the controls, his hand scratching his chin.
"What time is it?" said Maxus, yawning.
"It's a time machine," said Tylaya. "It's whatever time we want it to be."
"Funny," he said, flopping himself down on the sofa next to her.
"I couldn't sleep so I came to see what the Doctor was up to."
"Quiet," said the Doctor.
"Nothing then?" said Maxus.
"I said quiet," said the Doctor again.
"Give it a rest," said Maxus.
"The TARDIS is hovering," said the Doctor.
"What do you mean hovering?" said Maxus, crossing over to the controls.
"I had set the TARDIS to randomly take us somewhere in the vein hope it might help us out of this mess with Tylaya."
"You said in Cologne that you accepted that Alice was gone," said Tylaya.
"I said that I knew it wasn't your fault," said the Doctor, looking at her over his shoulder, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that I believe her to be gone."
Maxus suddenly felt uncomfortable at hearing Alice's name. Back in Cologne, after he'd been shot, he'd seen a vision of Tylaya of how she used to look. He felt guilty for that. He found himself wishing for her to be back to how he always remembered her. Sometimes Tylaya was now like a stranger to him.
"So what happened?" said Maxus, wanting to get off the subject quickly. "With the TARDIS I mean?"
"Well she won't let us land. We're just hovering over Earth."
"What year?" said Tylaya.
"That's just it, she won't even show me our space/time location. It's like she doesn't want me to know something."
"Can you get her moving?" said Maxus, suddenly feeling stupid for considering this weird time machine to be a living thing.
"I can," said the Doctor. "I can take us back into the vortex, but I don't want to go back."
"Why not?" said Tylaya.
"Because there's a mystery here." He grinned. "And I don't let the TARDIS keep things from me."
"But there's obviously a reason."
The TARDIS suddenly lurched violently and threw Tylaya across the console room where she landed back on the sofa.
"She's trying to take us back into the vortex," said the Doctor, frantically trying to regain control of the time machine.
"Let her," said Maxus as the TARDIS continue to rattle and rock aggressively.
"No you don't," said the Doctor.
And then the TARDIS lurched forward again. It felt different this time. The Doctor was thrown across the room where he hit the potted plants along the walkway leading from the door.
"Are you alright?" called Tylaya.
"Fine," said the Doctor, using his cane to drag himself up. The TARDIS lurched again. Something was hitting it from outside.
"What the hell?" said Maxus. "Don't tell me there's a space giant out then battering us to bits?"
The Doctor struggled to the console and switched on the scanner. His face went white. "It's a meteorite storm. I've never seen anything as violent as this though," he said as the TARDIS was struck again. "It's like it's being directed from somewhere on the other side of the solar system."
He frowned. There was a memory of something at the edge of his thoughts.
“Who the hell directs a meteorite storm?” said Tylaya.
"Now we can let the TARDIS get us out of here," said Maxus desperately.
The TARDIS lurched again and this time all the lights went out. The occupants suddenly felt a falling sensation as they clung onto anything they could get there hands on for dear life.
"What's happening?" yelled Tylaya as the TARDIS continued to fall.
"The anti-gravity as been knocked out!" yelled the Doctor. "The TARDIS is falling with the meteorites."
The TARDIS tumbled through the atmosphere, continuously hit by stray meteorites until it hit the grey expanse of cloud below it. It plunged through the clouds and then shot down to the Earth where he landed with a thump in a big green field, throwing piles up mud and grass from the crater it created.
The Doctor was the first to exit, coughing as he emerged from the smoke billowing from the TARDIS, followed by Tylaya and lastly Maxus.
The Doctor peered into the distance. On the far side of the field was a burning building and what looked like a man down on his knees.
All around there were smaller plumes of fire where the meteorites had hit. And they continued to streak on overhead.
"This is definitely Earth, yeah?" said Tylaya.
"Yes," said the Doctor.
"Well there hasn't been a meteorite storm like this since -"
"Since 2157," said Maxus.
"In your time, maybe," said the Doctor, "but we could be in the future, far from your time-" He stopped himself.
"What?" said Tylaya.
"2157," said the Doctor blankly.
"You remember it?" said Tylaya, a hint of worry in her voice.
"No wonder the TARDIS didn't want us to land here. Quick, back inside. The systems should have cooled off now."
"Is it true then?" said Tylaya. "Are we definitely in 2157"
"Get inside!" said the Doctor angrily. "We'll discuss it when we're far, far away."
Two minutes later the door was locked and the blue TARDIS disappeared from the field.
Peter White turned around at the sound. He had been aware of something larger crashing towards the back end of the field, but had been in too much shock to look, but the wheezing and groaning sound had sounded...unearthly. But there was nothing there now.
He then came to his senses. He scrambled to his feet and got as close as he could to the burning building. There was no sign of Martha. She had to have perished. He held back to tears. He needed to get away from here. He needed to get help. The meteorite storm was over now and it might be safe for him to move. He turned and headed towards his old pickup truck. It had remained largely intact, having been stowed away at the old outhouse garage and he clambered into it. He took one last look at his burning home. The home that had stood for over 550 years, and then put his foot down on the pedal, driving across the gravel and down the dirt track.
After passing through smoke and more mist he finally located the main road. He skidded onto it and drove even faster. He had to get to Thornsby. He had to get the fire brigade. He knew it was pointless because the house was gutted, but he couldn't leave his wife burning in there. He needed to at least get her body out.
He almost hit the car that emerged from the mist in front of him. He skidded to avoid hitting it and went off down the ditch on the right hand side of the road.
The car had been stationary, it's back end melted. He regained his composure and then quickly got out of the car.
Sitting at the side of the road was a man in his thirties with short black hair and black beard. His arm was cut badly and his other, uninjured arm, was around a young girl of about 13. Laying inside the car was an older woman, about the same age as the man.
And then Peter realised that the woman didn't have a head. She was partially melted to the back of the car.
The girl was sobbing and the man was trying his hardest to console her whilst fighting back his own tears.
"What happened?" said Peter, still in shock about Martha.
"She wasn't feeling well," said the man. "She went to sit in the back of the car. Molly came in the front." He started crying and the girl, Molly, began crying even more.
"There, there," said Peter, sitting beside the girl and putting his own arm around her. He suddenly had flashes back to looking after Alison, his own daughter, before her accident many years ago, "it wasn't your fault," said Peter.
"It was," said Molly. "I should have stayed in the back",
"She wanted to lay out," said the man. "It's not your fault, Molly."
"It is," sobbed the girl. "It is."
"The meteorite hit us," said the man. "It came out of nowhere."
"I know," said Peter, suddenly feeling like he had control of himself again. "My wife was...killed in the attack."
"I'm sorry," said the man, still trying to fight back to tears.
Peter didn't know why he had used the word "attack", but it felt right to him. This didn't feel like a natural occurrence. "We need to get to Thornsby. Someone there can help us."
"No," said Molly. "We can't leave Mum."
Peter looked at the man. "What's your name?" he said.
"Sam," said the man. "Sam Hasthorpe."
Peter nodded. "Good to meet you Sam. We need to leave."
"But my wife-"
"There's nothing we can do for her, Sam," said Peter. "We need to get you and your daughter to safety."
Sam looked back at his wife's body, still half melted to the car. He started crying again, but then regained his composure, nodding to Peter.
"No, Dad."
"Listen, Molly," said Sam, kneeling beside his daughter, "Mum wouldn't want us to be here now. She'd want us to find shelter. She'd want us to be safe."
Molly forced back her tears, brushing her dark hair from out her eyes.
"This kind man is going to take us into town where we'll find help."
"But we can't just leave her."
"We're not," said Sam. "We're going to send someone to help her. I promise."
With a sniff Molly nodded and clambered to her feet. "Thank you, Mr-"
"Peter. Just call me Peter."
And they made their way to the ditch and to the old truck.
In the TARDIS the Doctor was frantically playing at the controls, but the TARDIS was beeping back at him furiously.
"What's wrong?" said Tylaya.
"The TARDIS has been damaged. Now we can't get away. We're still in orbit around Earth."
Tylaya looked up at the scanner. All around the globe were trails of smoke and fire and the damage caused by the meteorites.
"We were right, weren’t we?" said Tylaya solemnly.
"Yes. Damn it!" said the Doctor as the TARDIS shook. The central rotor moved up and down once and then the engines came to a stop.
"What is it?" said Maxus.
"I managed to move us, but only a year into the future, to 2158. I'm going to have to do some major repair work on her."
"Then get on with it," said Maxus, growing impatient to get away. If this really was when they thought it was then they all knew what this particular decade held for the Human race.
"I can't," said the Doctor. "I need to shut down nearly all of her systems. I have to land."
"We can't," said Tylaya. "We can't go down there."
"We have no choice," said the Doctor. "There's a small town just near to where we landed before. I spent quite a bit of time there a while back. We can put down there, find some shelter and quietly repair this old girl."
"But you say we've come forward a year, yes?" said Tylaya.
"That's correct."
"But you-"
"I know exactly what it means," said the Doctor. "2158 is the year the Daleks invaded Earth."
Peter White stepped out from his farmhouse onto the gravel that ran around the perimeter of the house. He sniffed the air. Cut grass. He always liked that smell. It was a cold and frosty morning and he had just gotten up from one of the longest sleeps he'd had in a long time. He put his hands in his pockets and walked across the gravel to the field.
The grass crunched under his feet and had a layer of frost on it. In the distance the line of trees that ran along the bottom of his field was obscured by a thin veil of mist.
He smiled to himself. It was peaceful here. Quiet and peaceful. His family had lived in this farm house for generations, and, although it wasn't a working farmhouse any longer, he wouldn't have moved anywhere else. He felt calm and content here.
"Peter!" came his wife’s voice from behind him.
He closed his eyes and tried to ignore it.
"Peter!" she called again, this time a little louder.
"What?" he called, his back still to her.
"We said we'd sort out the loft," said his wife.
"In a minute, Martha," he said.
"We haven't got all day," she said.
He turned to face her. She was part way in the house lugging a huge suitcase along the hallway. They had been married for forty years, but he was damned if he knew how they had lasted this long.
"We've got all the time in the world," said Peter. And he did. He had retired from his job at the valve company five years ago and Martha had retired three years before him. They had nothing else to do. He simply wanted to rest and enjoy his retirement.
"I need to get the dinner on," said Martha, finally coming to stop with the suitcase.
"It's 8:30 in the morning, woman," said Peter, checking his watch.
"You know how long gammon takes to cook," she said, breathlessly.
He turned back to the field one more time to see if he could spot the trees. They were even more obscured now. He smiled, closed his eyes again, and turned to head back to the farmhouse.
He was almost at the door when he thought he heard something up above. It sounded like one of those new proton-planes whizzing past. He frowned and gazed up into the sky.
Nothing.
"Peter," said Martha, exasperated, "will you come in and close the bloody door. You'll catch your death out there."
Peter looked at her lined face and her faded blue eyes. She still looked beautiful even now. They had spent a lifetime together, and then he remembered why he fell in love with her. It was her caring nature. He knew that she'd never let anything happen to him.
He smiled softly at her. "Sorry, love," he said.
And then the house exploded.
Peter was thrown through the air, landing about ten metres away from the burning building. He lay flat on his back staring up into the white, sunless sky as shapes and objects zoomed overhead with the same whizzing sound he had heard before. The objects were on fire and all around him he could hear explosions, some close by and some in the distance.
They were meteorites.
And then he remembered the house. Then he remembered Martha.
He quickly scrambled to his feet, almost fell over from going light-headed, and stared at the burning husk of what was once his old farmhouse.
He fell to his knees as the flames rose higher and higher into the sky. The heat coming from the house was that intense he had started to sweat.
Martha was gone.
Maxus awoke with a start. Tylaya was no longer next to him in the bed. He frowned and rubbed his forehead. He sat up in the bed and looked around the darkened room. There was a faint orange glow behind the roundels in their room and a gentle humming from the TARDIS machinery.
He got to his feet, put on his dressing gown and then, tying it up at the waist, made his way out of the room and down the corridor towards the console room.
When he got there Tylaya was already dressed and sat on the sofa with a cup of coffee. The Doctor was stood at the controls, his hand scratching his chin.
"What time is it?" said Maxus, yawning.
"It's a time machine," said Tylaya. "It's whatever time we want it to be."
"Funny," he said, flopping himself down on the sofa next to her.
"I couldn't sleep so I came to see what the Doctor was up to."
"Quiet," said the Doctor.
"Nothing then?" said Maxus.
"I said quiet," said the Doctor again.
"Give it a rest," said Maxus.
"The TARDIS is hovering," said the Doctor.
"What do you mean hovering?" said Maxus, crossing over to the controls.
"I had set the TARDIS to randomly take us somewhere in the vein hope it might help us out of this mess with Tylaya."
"You said in Cologne that you accepted that Alice was gone," said Tylaya.
"I said that I knew it wasn't your fault," said the Doctor, looking at her over his shoulder, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that I believe her to be gone."
Maxus suddenly felt uncomfortable at hearing Alice's name. Back in Cologne, after he'd been shot, he'd seen a vision of Tylaya of how she used to look. He felt guilty for that. He found himself wishing for her to be back to how he always remembered her. Sometimes Tylaya was now like a stranger to him.
"So what happened?" said Maxus, wanting to get off the subject quickly. "With the TARDIS I mean?"
"Well she won't let us land. We're just hovering over Earth."
"What year?" said Tylaya.
"That's just it, she won't even show me our space/time location. It's like she doesn't want me to know something."
"Can you get her moving?" said Maxus, suddenly feeling stupid for considering this weird time machine to be a living thing.
"I can," said the Doctor. "I can take us back into the vortex, but I don't want to go back."
"Why not?" said Tylaya.
"Because there's a mystery here." He grinned. "And I don't let the TARDIS keep things from me."
"But there's obviously a reason."
The TARDIS suddenly lurched violently and threw Tylaya across the console room where she landed back on the sofa.
"She's trying to take us back into the vortex," said the Doctor, frantically trying to regain control of the time machine.
"Let her," said Maxus as the TARDIS continue to rattle and rock aggressively.
"No you don't," said the Doctor.
And then the TARDIS lurched forward again. It felt different this time. The Doctor was thrown across the room where he hit the potted plants along the walkway leading from the door.
"Are you alright?" called Tylaya.
"Fine," said the Doctor, using his cane to drag himself up. The TARDIS lurched again. Something was hitting it from outside.
"What the hell?" said Maxus. "Don't tell me there's a space giant out then battering us to bits?"
The Doctor struggled to the console and switched on the scanner. His face went white. "It's a meteorite storm. I've never seen anything as violent as this though," he said as the TARDIS was struck again. "It's like it's being directed from somewhere on the other side of the solar system."
He frowned. There was a memory of something at the edge of his thoughts.
“Who the hell directs a meteorite storm?” said Tylaya.
"Now we can let the TARDIS get us out of here," said Maxus desperately.
The TARDIS lurched again and this time all the lights went out. The occupants suddenly felt a falling sensation as they clung onto anything they could get there hands on for dear life.
"What's happening?" yelled Tylaya as the TARDIS continued to fall.
"The anti-gravity as been knocked out!" yelled the Doctor. "The TARDIS is falling with the meteorites."
The TARDIS tumbled through the atmosphere, continuously hit by stray meteorites until it hit the grey expanse of cloud below it. It plunged through the clouds and then shot down to the Earth where he landed with a thump in a big green field, throwing piles up mud and grass from the crater it created.
The Doctor was the first to exit, coughing as he emerged from the smoke billowing from the TARDIS, followed by Tylaya and lastly Maxus.
The Doctor peered into the distance. On the far side of the field was a burning building and what looked like a man down on his knees.
All around there were smaller plumes of fire where the meteorites had hit. And they continued to streak on overhead.
"This is definitely Earth, yeah?" said Tylaya.
"Yes," said the Doctor.
"Well there hasn't been a meteorite storm like this since -"
"Since 2157," said Maxus.
"In your time, maybe," said the Doctor, "but we could be in the future, far from your time-" He stopped himself.
"What?" said Tylaya.
"2157," said the Doctor blankly.
"You remember it?" said Tylaya, a hint of worry in her voice.
"No wonder the TARDIS didn't want us to land here. Quick, back inside. The systems should have cooled off now."
"Is it true then?" said Tylaya. "Are we definitely in 2157"
"Get inside!" said the Doctor angrily. "We'll discuss it when we're far, far away."
Two minutes later the door was locked and the blue TARDIS disappeared from the field.
Peter White turned around at the sound. He had been aware of something larger crashing towards the back end of the field, but had been in too much shock to look, but the wheezing and groaning sound had sounded...unearthly. But there was nothing there now.
He then came to his senses. He scrambled to his feet and got as close as he could to the burning building. There was no sign of Martha. She had to have perished. He held back to tears. He needed to get away from here. He needed to get help. The meteorite storm was over now and it might be safe for him to move. He turned and headed towards his old pickup truck. It had remained largely intact, having been stowed away at the old outhouse garage and he clambered into it. He took one last look at his burning home. The home that had stood for over 550 years, and then put his foot down on the pedal, driving across the gravel and down the dirt track.
After passing through smoke and more mist he finally located the main road. He skidded onto it and drove even faster. He had to get to Thornsby. He had to get the fire brigade. He knew it was pointless because the house was gutted, but he couldn't leave his wife burning in there. He needed to at least get her body out.
He almost hit the car that emerged from the mist in front of him. He skidded to avoid hitting it and went off down the ditch on the right hand side of the road.
The car had been stationary, it's back end melted. He regained his composure and then quickly got out of the car.
Sitting at the side of the road was a man in his thirties with short black hair and black beard. His arm was cut badly and his other, uninjured arm, was around a young girl of about 13. Laying inside the car was an older woman, about the same age as the man.
And then Peter realised that the woman didn't have a head. She was partially melted to the back of the car.
The girl was sobbing and the man was trying his hardest to console her whilst fighting back his own tears.
"What happened?" said Peter, still in shock about Martha.
"She wasn't feeling well," said the man. "She went to sit in the back of the car. Molly came in the front." He started crying and the girl, Molly, began crying even more.
"There, there," said Peter, sitting beside the girl and putting his own arm around her. He suddenly had flashes back to looking after Alison, his own daughter, before her accident many years ago, "it wasn't your fault," said Peter.
"It was," said Molly. "I should have stayed in the back",
"She wanted to lay out," said the man. "It's not your fault, Molly."
"It is," sobbed the girl. "It is."
"The meteorite hit us," said the man. "It came out of nowhere."
"I know," said Peter, suddenly feeling like he had control of himself again. "My wife was...killed in the attack."
"I'm sorry," said the man, still trying to fight back to tears.
Peter didn't know why he had used the word "attack", but it felt right to him. This didn't feel like a natural occurrence. "We need to get to Thornsby. Someone there can help us."
"No," said Molly. "We can't leave Mum."
Peter looked at the man. "What's your name?" he said.
"Sam," said the man. "Sam Hasthorpe."
Peter nodded. "Good to meet you Sam. We need to leave."
"But my wife-"
"There's nothing we can do for her, Sam," said Peter. "We need to get you and your daughter to safety."
Sam looked back at his wife's body, still half melted to the car. He started crying again, but then regained his composure, nodding to Peter.
"No, Dad."
"Listen, Molly," said Sam, kneeling beside his daughter, "Mum wouldn't want us to be here now. She'd want us to find shelter. She'd want us to be safe."
Molly forced back her tears, brushing her dark hair from out her eyes.
"This kind man is going to take us into town where we'll find help."
"But we can't just leave her."
"We're not," said Sam. "We're going to send someone to help her. I promise."
With a sniff Molly nodded and clambered to her feet. "Thank you, Mr-"
"Peter. Just call me Peter."
And they made their way to the ditch and to the old truck.
In the TARDIS the Doctor was frantically playing at the controls, but the TARDIS was beeping back at him furiously.
"What's wrong?" said Tylaya.
"The TARDIS has been damaged. Now we can't get away. We're still in orbit around Earth."
Tylaya looked up at the scanner. All around the globe were trails of smoke and fire and the damage caused by the meteorites.
"We were right, weren’t we?" said Tylaya solemnly.
"Yes. Damn it!" said the Doctor as the TARDIS shook. The central rotor moved up and down once and then the engines came to a stop.
"What is it?" said Maxus.
"I managed to move us, but only a year into the future, to 2158. I'm going to have to do some major repair work on her."
"Then get on with it," said Maxus, growing impatient to get away. If this really was when they thought it was then they all knew what this particular decade held for the Human race.
"I can't," said the Doctor. "I need to shut down nearly all of her systems. I have to land."
"We can't," said Tylaya. "We can't go down there."
"We have no choice," said the Doctor. "There's a small town just near to where we landed before. I spent quite a bit of time there a while back. We can put down there, find some shelter and quietly repair this old girl."
"But you say we've come forward a year, yes?" said Tylaya.
"That's correct."
"But you-"
"I know exactly what it means," said the Doctor. "2158 is the year the Daleks invaded Earth."
Next time: The Doctor and co meet some of the survivors. Coming Saturday August 9th 2014.
No comments:
Post a Comment