From: eah4@po.CWRU.Edu (Elizabeth A. Hlabse) Newsgroups: alt.ql.creative Subject: The Three Doctors, part 1 Date: 5 Dec 1992 23:31:57 GMT Organization: Case Western Reserve University, Cleveland, OH (USA) Lines: 220 Reply-To: eah4@po.CWRU.Edu (Elizabeth A. Hlabse) NNTP-Posting-Host: thor.ins.cwru.edu I'm going to be posting this story in parts as I have time. Please e-mail any comments you may have. This was my first major attempt at writing QL fan fic and of course it's a cross-over. I hope you enjoy this. Please excuse any spelling errors. THE THREE DOCTORS by Beth Hlabse, copyright 1992 "Welcome aboard, Peri," the Doctor said, a resigned look on his face as he held onto the control counsel to keep from falling onto the floor of the TARDIS control room. Just when things looked like they were going to get better, that was when they always seemed to fall apart. The destruction of the Master, or at least he thought the Master had been destroyed, had hurt. Yes, the Master had been trying to kill him for longer than he cared to remember, but the death of any individual always saddened him. And he had seen so much death through the long years of his life. Too much death, actually, and now he had been hoping for some quiet time to get to know the newest of his companions better and get over the leave- taking of Turlough. Turlough. He had been a very disturbed young man when he had first joined the Doctor. Of course, he had also been trying to kill the Doctor for the Black Guardian and that in itself would cause anyone to be disturbed. He had just left the Doctor's company to go back to his home world. The Doctor remembered how they had first met, looking over the control counsel he now held onto to firmly, both with startled expressions on their faces. He had figured out rather quickly that Turlough wasn't what he had seemed to be--a young English schoolboy just wouldn't have the knowledge Turlough had had. He had been a pawn in a game bigger than he had realized, and when it came down to the final moments of the game, the Doctor had trusted Turlough with his life. The trust had been well-given. He just hoped that Turlough would be happy back on Trion. With a familiar grinding sound, the TARDIS materialized in a room that was filled with computer equipment. The door opened and the Doctor stepped out, followed by his young companion. He was dressed in old fashioned English cricketing clothes awith a stalk of celery on his lapel. He had a youthful face, blond hair, and blue eyes that reflected more age than his form. The young girl, dressed in pink shorts and an open necked top, looked around apprehensively, dark eyes darting from side to side as if expecting someone (or something) to leap out at them. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that trouble seemed to follow the Doctor. "Where are we, Doctor?" she asked him. The Doctor turned to her, looking at her over the pair of half-glasses that he had put on to examine the table more closely. "Earth, but I'm not quite sure where and when, Peri. I hadn't planned on this little side-trip. Sometimes the TARDIS just has a mind of her own. We'll just take a small look around and then we'll be off." He bent down to look at the table in front of him a a different angle. "Now I wonder what this is used for?" The Doctor's greatest weakness was an insatiable curiosity that had, on too many occasions to count, gotten him into trouble. "Can you at least take a guess as to when?" Peri asked him, more interested in the where and when than the what. "Around the late 20th-early 21st century, I should think." The Doctor bent down to look at the computer again. "Interesting. It seems that this is some sort of rudimentary time machine yet I can't quite seem to figure out how people are supposed to travel using it." The Doctor stuck his hand on the top of the table to balance himself as he began poking inside what appeared to be some sort of control panel. Without warning a blue beam of light came from the ceiling and connectted on the Doctor's hand. "Doctor," Peri called out, "What's that?" The Doctor looked at the origin point of the light, studing it carefully, but not removing his hand from the beam. "A primitive form of identification, I would think," he answered her. "And it probably means that we're going to have company in a few moments." "That's right, you are," said a gravely voice behind them. They whirled to face the voice. In the open doorway stood a rather short man with dark, curly hair and an expression on his face that said he would brook no arguments. Beside him stood a man in a navel uniform and just outside the door stood another man. They both wore guns at their sides but had not drawn them. The man who had spoken to them was holding a smoldering cigar in one hand and his gun was drawn and he had it pointed at the Doctor. "What do we do now, Doctor?" Peri's voice was rising in apprehension. "Surrender," he answered her with a sigh, raising his hands and motioning to her to do so as well. The Doctor faced the smaller man squarely. "Would you mind putting that down? I really don't like guns and we are unarmed." His tone of voice brought a hint of a smile to the face of the man in front of them but the gun didn't move, even as he motioned to the guard next to him to search them for concealed weapons. "Oh, well, in that case, can we at least put our arms down? They are getting rather tired, you know." A small nod of the head was the only answer they got, and as they lowered their hands, he gestured towards the door with his gun and they obediently went where he directed them. He steered then towards a room that appeared to be an office. He left them there and they heard the door lock on the other side after he left. Peri was looking around the office. She stood behind one of the desks looking at a row of pictures. One had the man who had just left them with another man, younger than himself, who had a distinctive streak of silver hair falling into one eye. They were both smiling at the camera. Another frame held the cover of Time Magazine and showed the second man again with the words 'The Next Einstein -- Doctor Samuel Beckett' along the bottom. A third showed the first man in a naval uniform along with several other military men who had similar insignia on their uniforms although the uniforms belonged to military organizations of different countries. "Doctor, look at these," Peri told him, pointing at the pictures. The Doctor wandered over to stand behind Peri to look at the pictures. He dismissed the first two after a quick perusal. The third held his attention. "Well, I'll be," he murmured to himself. "Do you know who he is, Doctor?" she asked him. "No," he ansered her, "but I do know someone who does." The Doctor pointed to one of the men in the picture. "That's Brigadier Alastair Gordon Lethbridge-Stweart and this appears to be a picture of the different heads of U.N.I.T." "U.N.I.T.?" Peri had never heard of the organization. "I used to be a scientific advisor for the British division," The Doctor said, ignoring her question. "Well, well, well, this is interesting." The Doctor put the picutre back in it's place and wandered back to the other side of the desk and pulled up a chair. "You might as well get comfortable, Peri," the Doctor said, trying to get comfortable in a chair that was not designed for comfort. "We are probably going to be here for awhile." The Doctor promptly closed his eyes and appeared to go to sleep. Peri just shook her head and made herself comfortable on the small couch that was in the office, after she had put a pile of folders and computer discs that had been on it on the floor. ********* Unknown to Peri (but known to the Doctor who had seen the well-hidden camera) their entire conversation had been listened to by the people in charge of the complex. The man who had found them turned to the woman standing next to him. "Whoever he is, he's talking about things he shouldn't. I'm going to call Lethbridge-Stewart and find out if his story's true. I can't believe the Brit branch would have hired someone like him; not with all the problems that seem to happen on that side of the Atlantic. Has Security found out how they got in the complex?" Although she wasn't involved in th security aspects of the operation, the woman did know almost everything that went on, as did the man beside her. "No, and they're throwing fits right now trying to figure it out." Both turned when they heard the door open behind them. Two security men came in. "Admiral," one of them started, "you are not going to believe what we found in the room next to the Control Room." He looked at his partenr who just shrugged. He didn't want to try to explain what they had found. Taking a deep breath, the first security guard continued, "It looks like an old English police call box, the kind that was used in the 1960's. We tried to open it to see if there was anything in it, but the door was locked. What do you want us to do with it?" "Move it into the Control Room for now," he ansewred quietly. "Has anyone found out how those two got past Security and Ziggy?" "No, sir," the second man answered. "Security can't find a breach in the perimeter and Ziggy's sulking again. She won't tell us anything." "Great, just great. I'm going to kill Sam for giving that thing an ego the size of the moon." The three people with him just smiled, having heard similar complaints from just about everyone at the Project at one time or another. "Dismissed." "SIr," they said in unison and turned to carry out his orders. The Admiral picked up the phone next to him and began dialing the long distance codes necessary to reach England. After what seemed a long time, he finally spoke into the receiver. "I would like to speak to Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart, if he's available, please." He paused and commented to the woman with him. "When he left U.N.I.T., Stewart started teaching at one of the English public schools. Seems to like it, too, and he was just named headmaster." He started when he heard a voice on the other end. "Hi, Stewart, this is Al Calavicci ... Yes, still working with Dr. Beckett ... Actually, I need your help. Someone has managed to break into the complex and I've no idea how. We were monitoring his conversation and he mentioned that he had been a scientific advisor with the British U.N.I.T. ... Youngish, blond hair, wearing the weirdest cloths you ever saw ... My cloths happen to be the height of fashion. Anyway, he also has a stick of celery on the lapel ... You know him?!" Al reaised an eyebrow at the woman with him. "The Doctor? ... Doctor who? ... Very funny, Stewart ... Would you happen to know the girl he's travelling with? ... No, she's American ... Okay, thanks Stewart. I owe you one. Bye." He turned back to the woman standing patiently in front of him as he hung up the phone. "It seems he is who he says he is, Verbena. I'm going to have a talk with our visitors. Stewart said things can get a little strange when he's around and that the box belongs to this ... Doctor. I want you to watch from here and if things get too strange, come and rescue me." Verbena nodded as the Admiral left the room. 'And what exactly is strange, Al?' Verbena thought, remembering everything that they had seen since Sam stepped into the Accelerator prematurely. She turned back to the monitor just as Al entered the room. to be continued... -- Beth Hlabse eah4@po.CWRU.Edu Assistant Sysop The Science Fiction and Fantasy Sig (GO SCIFI) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And it harm none, do as you will.