The Doctor Who / Ben Chatham 50th Anniversary Special: TIME OUT OF MIND
OK folks, its Autumn and in the run up to November its time for the alternate Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Special. For 50 years, Doctor Who has been a major part of many peoples' lives. This special is not intended to encompass every facet of the show's history, rather to reflect its best ever eras and present a story that I feel would work well on screen and be an impressive addition to the canon. My aim is to present an alternate to the actual TV special which has certain additional features:
- a wider range of past Doctors will feature
- a wider range of past companions also
- Ben Chatham and Operation Delta
- a plot more faithful to the best era of the classic series
THE 50TH ANNIVERSARY SPECIAL : TIME OUT OF MIND
Part 1 : Death on the Fell
The rain poured down in torrents, driven by the harsh north-eastern wind, as Nathan Fawley rushed nervously out of Bowland Fell Research Station and towards the car park. He quickly bundled the papers onto the back seat and drove towards the main exit, as he had done so many times before. The unrelenting wind drove the rain into his windscreen on this cold, autumn night in Cumbria. Fawley showed his ID to the armed men patrolling the exit and they waved his car through. He breathed a sigh of relief and drove for several miles before stopping at the side of a lane to make a phone call.
"...er hi, its Nathan Fawley. Is that Mr Scott? Ok I'm out of there and on my way to Lancaster now, I should be half an hour. See you in the pub. I've got the evidence".
In Lancaster, Kyle Scott put his mobile down and went to the bar to order a pint. He felt aggrieved that Ben had sent him on this case alone, especially as it didn't seem much of a case at all. Just some man working at a scientific research centre claiming that he had information on some cover-up or other. Kyle took his pint back to his seat and shrugged. The dingy little pub , 'The Black Witch', looked like something from the 1930s with cobwebs on the walls and a publican with a handlebar moustache who was smoking, despite the ban. However the pub was otherwise deserted and Kyle assumed that its very quietness was why Fawley had insisted on meeting up here. Kyle sipped the beer and winced:
"Tastes like friggin' bog water" he muttered to himself.
Fawley drove on through the driving rain over the hills and troughs of the bleak Cumbrian landscape. As he rounded a bend, he suddenly saw a woman standing in the middle of the road and he broke sharply. The woman was dressed in strange, antiquated clothing and wore a headscarf . She approached the car. Fawley wound the window down:
"You could have been killed standing in the road like that" he shouted. The woman held up a leather bag:
"I be Squinting Lizzie. I be sellin' pegs an' cutl'ry. How many you want?"
"What? I don't want anything from you, you stupid old cow. If you're daft enough to go walking about selling crap in weather like this then thats you're business but you just nearly caused an accident." The woman laughed, revealing a row of black teeth:
"Rude bugger ain't ya. You'd be better to buy summat as old Lizzie 'as ways of making it worse off for yer if ya don't."
Fawley sighed and drove off, winding the window down.
"Mad as a brush" he mumbled to himself. Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in the back of this neck. He turned around and was horrified to see the old woman sitting in the back of the car with a long knitting-needle in her hand.
"Hey, how the hell did you get in here?" The woman laughed and plunged the needle straight into Fawley's left eye, driving it straight through into the brain. The car swerved violently and crashed into a tree.
Meanwhile, in the TARDIS, the 11th Doctor danced a little jig and spun on his heels:
"Yes, we're off to see the golden fountains of Lemoria. I like the golden fountains of Lemoria. The golden fountains of Lemoria are cool." Clara was not impressed:
"I wish you wouldn't dance about all the time when you're talking Doctor. And whats so good about some fountains?"
"Clara, these arn't just any old fountains. The water looks like liquid gold and the mountains glisten with real diamonds and emeralds. Whaheeey, geronimo! *dancing*".
"Grow up Doctor" Clara said wearily. The Doctor frowned:
"This is my TARDIS is in not?"
"Its not your TARDIS is it?"
"You know its not."
"Then I'll be as immature as I like in it."
The Doctor made a farting noise and Clara frowned and flounced towards the door. However as she did so there was a shudder throughout the TARDIS and time seemed to slow down to a crawl. Moving and speaking was like moving through liquid tar. The Doctor desperately tried to move towards the TARDIS console, however suddenly things became normal again and he fell into the console with a thud.
"Ow, that hurt. Whoe!" the Doctor shouted.
"What the hell was that? Is this machine of yours on the blink?" Clara shouted.
"Hey don't call her a 'machine'. And she's not on the blink, that was a time current wake distortion. I'd know one anywhere."
"What the hell is a 'time current wake distortion?" The Doctor gave Clara a serious stare:
"Someone or something is trying to latch onto the TARDIS and follow it through time. Like tying your trailer to the back of a lorry and hitching a ride."
The Doctor fiddled with some knobs on the TARDIS.
"And the origin of this attempted hitcher is earth, England. The golden fountains of Lemoria will have to wait."
In Cumbria, Kyle Scott was onto his third pint, waiting in the pub. He tried ringing Fawley again however no one answered. He approached the bar:
"Ere it looks like I'm gonna be stuck 'ere all night. Do you let rooms out mate? Or is there a B&B near 'ere I can get digs?"
"You can 'ave the back bedroom upstairs. As long as you don't expect luxury" the publican answered.
"Ere do I look like the kind of geezer who expects luxury?" Kyle laughed, "I wouldn't mind watchin' a bit of telly though. Ain't you got one for the bar?"
"We have never had a television in this pub and we never will. This is a local pub. We do have a radio. Since you are my only customer you may listen to it at a low volume."
The publican placed a battered old transistor radio on the bar and switched it on. Kyle went back to his seat to finish his pint when the local news came on:
"Reports are coming in of an accident on the Bowland Fell lane. A car has hit a tree and we understand that there has been one fatality. The male victim has not yet been named."
Kyle quickly tried to ring Fawley again and this time his call was answered:
"This is the police. Who is ringing please?"
"This is Kyle... er Kyle Scott."
"Mr Scott, I should inform you that the person you are ringing, who we understand to be Nathan Fawley, is dead.......
.........to be continued.