19

DEATH AND REBIRTH

The studio was full of cheesy backdrops featuring Clangers and Klingons; there were stills from various idiotic American films from the 1950s onwards about aliens and spaceships beaten by heroic US marines, a mythology that showed no signs of slowing down based on recent releases.

Under the blazing arc lights the only invited guest Sir Keith Happenstance held court, pontificating as he rubbed his 3 chins. With 28 letters after his name and educated at Eton and Oxford Sir Keith went unchallenged by the moronic TV presenter; who looked about sixteen and was better known for fronting CBBC.

Pouring scorn on the very idea of aliens visiting earth Sir Keith stuck firmly to the official, scientific view of reality, the government line but then he would being its chief scientific adviser. No believers had been invited on the show so it was totally one-sided, there was no one to champion the existence of alien life or contradict the rather pompous delivery of the tubby, self-important star guest.

In his stride now Sir Keith demolished what he called "So called sightings and experiences," with his trade mark lisp, flabby mannerisms and somewhat sinister squint. He knew his stuff and did belong to several Royal Societies but it never entered his mind to look at things in a flexible way, he got paid far too much to do the opposite.

On a nice fat retainer for this show he often referred to the movie posters dotted around the peach and beige studio, often laughing out loud at their crude depiction of bug eyed invaders.

"Only the most infantile of immature minds," he scoffed, "Could believe in this tripe."

That was when the big arc lights started flashing in a weird pattern, half the cameras died and the digital displays went dark. Touching his ear mike the presenter uttered a swear word not heard on CBBC, "We're off air," he gasped and Sir Keith's tirade came to an immediate halt.

Then everything went blue, various shades of cobalt, cerulean and oyster. Sir Keith sat upright in his well padded chair and lost some of his smugness, "What the duce," he muttered wondering when he could get back to his private club for some slap and tickle with the athletic Imogen.

Then it just erupted through the back wall, not damaging the wall in the slightest , a huge ball or sphere of blue light a vast cloud but with a clearly defined outer boundary and within it another shape could be seen a spinning oblong box from which a grating, cascading trumpet could clearly be heard.

The bizarre manifestation flew over the selected screaming audience fizzing and sparking and caused both presenter and guest to gaze in terror as it approached them gathering momentum and pitch. Sir Keith slid off his seat onto both knees and was heard to whimper, "Mummy," as the fiery blue ghost shot overhead briefly catching him with its outer shell and taking off his expensive toupee.

As security grunts rushed into the studio the rotating grinding sphere plus box exploded through the opposite wall and was gone leaving behind panic, blown lights and the sound of closed minds creaking open.

"Sir Keith are you all right sir," asked the presenter but the academic was incapable of speech, he was too busy trying to control his bowels.

Outside the sphere flew high over TV house and spiralled away following an erratic pattern, from it flames and sparks jumped as it did jagged arcs of blue and red light and a growing plume of smoke.

Just missing a police helicopter (which veered off course with a strained whine), the object lost height near the river seeming to bounce on thin air before flipping over totally and crash landing near a pile of rusting junk.

Vanishing the sphere exposed its central core the oblong blue box with a pulsing lamp on the roof, there were words but these were obscured by billowing smoke and more vibrant arcs the sound of trumpeting discord rose to a pitch and faded away to be replaced by a hissing, sparking death rattle.

Whatever the alien device was it had arrived and wasn't leaving any time soon if ever as the bleeding smoke testified, this thing was damaged perhaps permanently and lying on its side it coughed and groaned, the light through its windows flickering in a sickly and terminal way.

Within the thin grey haired man picked himself up off his back and surveyed a scene of utter chaos, the control room had been torn apart and gutted with live cable snaking everywhere, bits of wall and ceiling lay in smoking piles and the central console had all but blown apart its many panels hurled outwards to expose complex innards rapidly fusing and melting.

Face darkened with soot the man dusted himself down and coughed, turning to a small wheel set into a pipe he turned this and somewhere a ventilation system came on clearing the smoke, seconds later sprinters jetted something that began to put out the dozens of small fires

Features grim and eyes cloudy the pilot of the tardis let out of groan of dismay, rarely had his beloved craft been in such a parlous state. The repairs (if they were even possible) would take considerable time so he made his way over to the riven console to check auto-repair, it was offline, everything was offline except life support and even that was down to 25%.

Leaning against a terminal the skeletal man shook his head, there was nothing for it and squatting down he peered into the guts of the tardis, producing a long thin instrument that buzzed and shone. The old-fashioned way it would then and carefully he levered his aging frame into a tight space, squirming and grunting as he inserted himself into the crawlspace beneath the console.

If auto repair was out then it meant manual intervention which was not only risky but time consuming, muttering to himself he found his footing and inspected the main circuit board wincing at each incidence of damage.

Normally the tardis was indestructible but it was an old ship and recently its flaws were becoming ever more obvious, and it wasn't as though he could trade it in for a new one. His device began its long task but there was no denying that spare parts were required, various alloys and fluids especially mercury.

He could do so much but if the tardis were to fly again it would need conduits, insulation and fluid or he was stranded where he had crashed. SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT flashed up in bright red lettering and a deep groan escaped from the heart of the ship. The Doctor sighed if his repairs were to succeed he would need to go foraging and flipping off the sonic he slipped it into his jacket, "Very well then," he said grimly and closed his eyes as if in penance.

Larry threw down his cards and waited for the inevitable groans to escape his colleagues on the night shift, Bert would curse like a trooper and Alec would throw back his chair in a big dramatic gesture it was always the same only not that night.

Bert did groan a bit but revealed a queen flush, Alec was grinning broadly as he revealed a full house kings on jacks. Larry couldn't believe it he was cleaned out he had lost everything not only custards creams but jammy dodgers to.

"Bad luck mate," said Alec genially scooping up the winning pot of biscuits to add to his bourbons and digestives and Larry slumped noticing his tea mug was also empty it was time for a fresh brew. The jammy devil how dare he have a full house?

"I'm putting the kettle on," Larry said with disgust.

"Aye almost time for another inspection," said Bert hunting around for his cap. The three night-watchmen – all middle aged with spare tyres - had been on shift only a couple of hours but it felt like longer. Their job was beyond boring it was coma inducing and they were lucky they had each other in the big storage depot of EMTAC ELECTRONICS, the cavernous belly of which was filled with gigantic crates.

Eyeing his watch and realising Bert was right Larry put on his own cap and picked up a flashlight, "Usual pattern," he asked but Alec cleared his throat.

"Nah let's make it more varied you take west this time and you Bert can go north," patting his huge belly Alec nibbled on some of his winnings before producing his own flashlight he would take south which was the darkest, gloomiest corner of the depot. Larry didn't argue he was in no hurry to visit 'spook central' as people referred to the southern quadrant with its endless shadows and strange creaks.

"Suits me," he threw back still stinging about his recent defeat, west was an easy gig open and well lighted with no odd noises, not that he believed in ghosts of course after all what sane person did? Making his way west he whistled a tune, sure he'd beat Alec next time if the guy didn't cheat and it couldn't be ruled out. The old timer knew every trick in the book and a few more besides.

Larry hadn't gone far when he heard it a strange electronic whistling noise low pitched but persistent and coming from the west entrance, a reinforced door with a keypad. The whistle grew in pitch becoming two-tone and was quite musical, he had no idea what could be making it but the sound had to be checked out.

Puffing a but he knew he should get back to the gym, at 29 he was too young to go to seed and knew he shouldn't have given up jogging. Liz was always nagging at him to join her on a Thursday and she was right, he needed a good CV workout to burn off the extra pounds otherwise he'd end up like his co-workers fat and stiff.

The whistle cut out all at once leaving an eerie silence he didn't much like any more than the noise then he was sure he heard the hiss-clunk of the door opening. My god someone had broken in there was an intruder.

Radio out he called the other two, "This is Larry we have a code seven, I repeat a code seven in progress at the west door."

Silence not so much as a crackle hadn't they heard him, where their radios off? Not fancying taking on a burglar single-handed he hoisted his torch glad of its dense bulk it made a useful weapon.

Reaching the door he could see that it was indeed open; security had been breached and creeping over he listened able to hear laboured breathing. One crook or a team well whichever his duty was clear, he couldn't ignore a code seven and bravely he lifted his torch as a head popped through the gap grey and wrinkled bit old for a thief.

"Don't move," Larry bawled blinding the old man with his torch beam, squinting and stumbling the old timer landed on all fours shaking his head and Larry produced some cuffs ready to apply them. Then the intruder shook his head saying,

"What the duce," and looked up, Larry was sure he knew him had seen him somewhere before although he couldn't have named Sir Keith Happenstance if his life depended on it.

"You're nicked mate said Larry with as much belligerence as he could muster but the man seemed more confused than hostile in fact he appeared completely lost.

"What is this place," he grumbled, "How did I get here," straightening up he blinked at Larry with myopic eyes, "Who the devil are you?"

If it was an act it was a good one and Larry was a bit thrown, "You're breaking into private property sir," he began but Sir Keith cut in.

"Do you know who I am my man, I'm the government's scientific adviser?"

Yeah thought Larry and I'm a game show host; yet this old duffer did seem familiar, "So what are you doing breaking in here," he demanded not able to smell booze on the man's breath?

"I...I don't know," Sir Keith frowned, "I was in a TV studio discussing," but he couldn't remember, "Then I was here being blinded by that dratted torch, get it out of my face."

Shifting the beam Larry touched his radio he needed back up and advice on how to handle this not to mention witnesses. Then all of a sudden a change came over the old man, his back stiffened, his breathing normalised and his face changed becoming stiff and vacant, the eyes sort of glowing as his entire demeanour altered.

The next thing Larry knew his torch had been grabbed from his fingers and the beam swung towards him only it wasn't just light now but a crackled, fizzing, red hued discharge of immense voltage that punched him right back every bone and cell of his body on fire as they cooked from within. A scream was torn from his lungs just before they melted and darkness engulfed him totally.

The Doctor heard the scream and dashed towards it knowing he'd get there ahead of the other 2 guards and indeed he found Larry's body sprawled on a dusty floor arms flung out and face a mask of pure terror, the eyeballs burned black and neck veins bulging like cords.

There was no need to check if the man was dead that was obvious, it was what had killed him that interested the Doctor an electrical arc of immense power and focus based on the smoking uniform and the scattered pebbles around the poor man's head, they were teeth his teeth and had been blown from his gums.

A door hung open and muddy shoe prints were visible, size eleven by the looks of them; the prints advanced passed the body and further into the depot as the killer wasted no time. Needing to follow them the Doctor heard approaching men and hid himself, knowing he'd be an automatic suspect.

Two overweight men huffed into view in ill-fitting uniforms neither looking particularly bright and as they examined their lifeless colleague the time lord crept behind various crates using his sonic to track the killer who'd made a beeline for a section containing complex equipment he himself was interested in.

The tardis needed a mixture of fibre optics, processors and conducers rare on this planet and all would need to be upgraded to make a time ship operate, so why did the killer need them? Determined to ask him the Doctor moved soundlessly through the depot, not needing as much light as human eyes and the lack of light wasn't slowing the killer either.

Emerging into view and seeing his man the Doctor frowned gazing at the portly, grey haired, wheezing individual rummaging through various small crates with podgy hands. There was something familiar about those 3 chins, thick jowls and fat lips.

Taking out various plastic bags the fat man removed their contents to reveal circuit boards of a most advanced design, smiling at the sight of them began stuffing these into a sack he'd brought with him.

Stiff as a statue the Doctor watched as Sir Keith next went to another larger crate to rummage inside, his corpulent frame sweating and overworked lungs giving a deeper wheeze. Pausing for a moment the big man glanced around and the Doctor saw glowing eyes, a glowing face and around the man a flickering aura of power like he was wired to the mains.

Possessed he thought there could be no doubt about it the man was exuding too much power and it was burning him out, shredding his nervous system but where had it come from?

Returning to his labours Sir Keith removed a mercury condenser unit to turn over in his fingers, cylindrical in shape and divided into 3 clear sections the device was portable and lightweight it went easily into his sack along with all the other goodies.

Just what I want thought the Doctor, what the pilot of any advanced space craft would harvest, he watched the sack being picked up and thrown over a heavy shoulder as Sir Keith tramped further into the depot his search clearly not over.

Ready to follow the Doctor paused wondering if he should help himself in the same way, then he heard shoes approaching it was the two guards Bert and Alec and they were in something of a panic.

"One of us needs to go for the old bill," Alec was saying, "If our phones won't work we've no choice."

"We need to find the intruder first," said Bert without enthusiasm, "He killed poor Larry."

"Don't I know it," Alec agreed then froze as he saw the open crates their contents rifled and some missing, the Doctor watched with some amusement as the two men tried to figure out what had been taken, they clearly had no idea what they guarded or what it was used for.

Half inclined to tell them he decided to sneak behind some more crates, pointless conversation would waste time and he needed to find the fat man. It was just his luck to inadvertently kick something on the floor something that shouldn't have been there, an object that clattered all too noisily and before he knew it he was squinting as two torch beams picked him out.

"Oi you don't move," the voice was booming in these acoustics and a pair of meaty hands reached for him, pawing and grasping.

It had been a long time since he had used it but you don't forget Venusian martial arts that easily and Alec ended up on his back winded and dazed; Bert flew back into a large box caught by a neat kick to the lower belly that caused him to drop his torch and let out a yelp.

"Still got it," pleased with himself the time lord dashed in between both men and sprinted after Sir Keith as fast as his stiff aging legs would carry him, he was in one of his less spritely incarnations and would dearly have preferred the youth and agility of more recent selves but he would have to make do.

At least he could still demolish a pair of overweight, unmotivated security grunts with little effort; neither man had been seriously hurt but he needed them out of the way, they couldn't help but might join their late colleague if they got in the way.

Busy unwrapping a more complex flat screen terminal Sir Keith nodded his appreciation just before a voice with a slight Scots inflection interrupted, "I remember you now Sir Stupid Blabbermouth who doesn't believe in aliens, how do you feel now that you're possessed by one?"

Turning with an electrical snarl, his eyes glowing the academic glared at the speaker who did not appear to be another security oaf "Do not interfere time lord."

Hiding his surprise well the Doctor affected an air of disdain, "You know glowing eyes are old hat for me I've seen it all before glowing eyes, faces even entire bodies; how do you know I'm a time lord?"

The alien's reply was withering, "You brought me here," and the Doctor frowned not remembering that bit. Before his crash landing he didn't recall taking onboard any passengers.

"I brought you here," he repeated trying to think how that could have happened and where he'd been, a rather pleasant if dull agrarian world where he'd sorted out a minor environment issue, then a short stopover on a space station where the automatons had gone rogue then it was back to the vortex for a prolonged cruise.

Sir Keith hoisted the flat screen, "Time for me to depart you will not stop me."

Had a man not been killed the Doctor would have been inclined to agree but with one man dead and another possessed he felt a weight of responsibility, "What are you?"

Approaching him the bulky bureaucrat shoved the screen under one arm so it wouldn't be harmed and extended hand, a fizzing, sparking, glowing hand. Raising his sonic the Doctor thumbed on a high setting and a blue glow lit up half the room making Sir Keith halt in his tracks as a wall of sound energy telescoped between the two men.

"You cannot stop me like that," the electrical voice crackled and the voltage around the corpulent body expanded.

"You're collecting components for a drive system, does that mean your ship is stranded here," as the sonic upped its own power a small crack appeared on the flat screen, "Oops," said the time lord, "That's the trouble with delicate appliances, they don't survive fights intact."

Features twisting with rage Sir Keith lowered his prize to the floor carefully, "Don't make me damage you time lord," voice straining his lifted both hands to push at the sonic barrier.

"You damage me," the Doctor's jocular reply was rich with doubt, "Look at yourself sweating, wheezing, trembling you should have picked the boy presenter poor old Sir Keith isn't in the best of shape these days."

It was true; the scientific adviser was struggling to remain upright as his breathing became laboured and jowly face dripped perspiration, two savage arcs jumped from his palms to dent the sonic field, dent but not pierce.

"Nice try," the Scots burr had deepened, "But not quite good enough," levelling the sonic like a lance the thin man aimed it right at his opponent and fired a jet of audio into his skull. With a scream Sir Keith flew back into some soft packaging his arms and legs waving and twitching, the glowing aura around him losing width and cadescence.

"I'm quite prepared to take you away from earth but on my terms not yours," readjusting the sonic to a lower setting and approaching the fallen man the Doctor prepared to evacuate the alien entity when two things happened simultaneously.

Alex and Bert (now recovered from their drubbing) burst into the office with coshes raised to distract the time lord, and the thing in Sir Keith made a tactical and fateful decision; shooting out of the gasping ailing academic it bore down on the only other available target.

"Don't move," Alec yelled at the tall grey haired man as a queer luminous ghost jumped into the sparse frame causing it to stiffen, give a short cry and topple sideways into a chair legs kicking.

"What happened to him," asked Bert, "What was that light?"

Twitching and writhing the Doctor gritted his teeth willing the entity out of his brain and nervous system but it was stronger than he'd expected; way stronger. Having piggy backed on the tardis it was now piggy backing on him burrowing into his synapses and nerves, invading psyche, memory and will power.

It was very powerful, no wonder it had consumed Sir Keith so easily a mere human not in the best of condition but I am a time lord thought the Doctor and not just any time lord.

"Get out," the words were spat through gritted teeth.

"I'm afraid we can't do that sir," said Alec, "You've got some questions to answer, Bert try your mobile again."

As Bert was doing this the Doctor gave another convulsion and stood up he just knew his eyes were glowing from Alec's reaction, he sensed more of him was to as the alien will sapped his own making over vital motor functions.

Picking up the fallen flat screen and placing it under an arm the Doctor spoke in a voice not his own, "I am leaving," and he touched Alec just touched him nothing else was required as current earthed through the man's body cooking him and hurling him back into his mate, the two of them crashing back into the depot in a tangle of limbs.

"I am leaving now Doctor," said the voice as part of the Doctor's mind still tried to resist still fought valiantly for control.

Unable to eject the invader or subdue it, the thin man felt his legs walk and his body move stiffly at first then with greater vigour. He left Sir Keith unconscious, Alec dead and Bert in a dazed heap as he moved determinedly through the depot to the door he'd entered by.

The tardis was west, he headed north along the embankment to some white stone steps that took him down to a low promenade of darker wetter stone, ahead was an underpass and from this came a low but compelling glitter of light.

A ship thought the free part of the Doctor's mind, an alien ship parked and cloaked in the underpass neatly out of the way merged with the stone, grit and masonry, as he neared it the ship untangled its atoms from the surrounding masonry shard by shard to reconstruct first a skeleton then a full form.

Sleek and warp powered it was of an advanced design with time travel capability and vaguely familiar to him, his legs carried him to an airlock which melted open so he could duck inside. The craft only had three rooms - cockpit, mid-section and warp engine housing, entering the mid-section the alien carried his loot to a low table and spread it out item by item using the Doctor's hands he set to work customizing and cannibalizing what it needed.

The tasks would take time this was human tech and primitive there was a lot of adapting and upgrading to do and this consumed a lot of the alien's concentration allowing the Doctor a chance to marshal his psychic forces, unlike Sir Keith he was totally enslaved to the entity he could build mental barriers and compartmentalise his personality it was the only thing that had saved him but he was weakening mentally and physically; it was only a matter of time before he was completely absorbed.

"Don't fight me Doctor it is pointless," hands moving with impressive speed welded, linked, twisted and inserted chunks of technology into gaps and slots within the ship's cockpit.

"Of course I'll fight you, I'm not going to let you just abduct me."

"Spirited of you but futile I belong to a species that surf the vortex that can survive the time winds, we are more than a match for a mere physical being like yourself."

Having heard all the legends about vortex dwellers, the shapeless ghosts that existed outside of time the Doctor realised what he was up against and conjured a name from his boyhood a slang term used at the academy.

Temons, time demons; they were supposed to be myth a story told to infants but such things were not believed by adult time lords or they hadn't been until now.

If this was a temon (a term the Doctor abhorred) it was living proof the legends were true and it explained how this particular specimen had hopped onto the hull of his tardis in transit; something that was theoretically impossible.

"Why would your kind need a space craft," he asked, "If you can surf the vortex?"

"Surf it yes but not leave it not without some means of physical transport."

"My tardis," the Doctor grunted.

"Your tardis serves you it would reject me, no it is safer to use this vehicle left here by a visitor long gone."

"Killed by you," the Scot's accent was still just discernible?

"I didn't say that, not all are suitable hosts," the alien didn't sound deeply concerned but then as a temon it wouldn't be it belonged to a race of ravagers, parasites, users and manipulators who felt nothing for they consumed.

"Once free of earth will you release me," the Doctor's mind didn't need to ponder this for too long, no of course he wouldn't be released he was too useful a host.

"Why should I throw away such a useful prize your mind and body are remarkable in so many ways, look how quickly I complete my repairs this is child's play to a time lord; the technology basic."

Very well thought the time lord you repair this ship and take off but where do we go then, as reading this thought (and maybe he could) the temon declared, "I need a bigger ship with more host bodies for my brethren."

With this ship the temon could go anywhere in space and time its options were unlimited and that meant it had to be stopped at any cost, there was no way the temons could be allied free access to roam space stealing host bodies.

"There aren't any more time lords unfortunately for you."

"No but there are other advanced races, less impressive but still useful ah here we go." The small ship shuddered with power its cockpit terminals lighting up in a cascade, there was a sensation of rising and then thrusters came online as the ship surged forwards and upwards gaining height and momentum.

The sky blossomed into the blackness of space and then a huge blue and gold flower blossomed expanding and extruding into a spiralling vortex of winking lights that seemed to gulp at the small ship like a hungry beast, soon the craft was surrounded by the pulsating gullet of the vortex a ribbon rich with many colours some not seen anywhere else.

"Beautiful isn't it Doctor the natural home of my race; the only species who can live unshielded within its fiery heart, out there are millions of temons living minds who seek a physical existence but are denied the pleasures you corporeals take for granted."

The Doctor knew this, "I think there are enough hostile, aggressive, parasitic monstrosities in corporeal bodies as it is."

"Harsh words time lord and inappropriate, there will always be plenty of room for predators."

"Oh is that what you are a predator," the Doctor snorted, "Well I've made a career out of fighting predators as you probably know and one of the reasons I'm so good at it is they keep underestimating me."

One of the many gifts a time lord possessed was the ability to consciously alter brain chemistry by introducing hormones few other races had, doing it now the Doctor felt a scorch of heat across his brain and done the spinal cord, nerves twitched and tendons bunched as he regained the use of his left hand. He would have preferred the right but the left would do, he had control of his left leg to and left kidney but couldn't imagine any use for that in fighting a temon.

Travelling the vortex it would take no time at all to reach a suitable planet with time warp capability so he had to act now and shooting his left hand into a pocket he whipped out a familiar silver tool. Aiming this at the flight controls in the cockpit he sent a beam of pure energy into the navigational computer and warp stabiliser system.

His right hand, still controlled by the temon, grabbed the left wrist yanking it aside but the damage had been done. With an explosion of sparks and the shrill cry of alarms as a musical back drop the ship spun out of control across the vortex, flipping over and cartwheeling madly. As soon as one of its nacelles touched the vortex wall there was an immediate reaction an explosion of reacting atoms and anti-atoms.

The craft could have been vaporised but it wasn't, at least most of it wasn't however the atmosphere inside the ship was evacuated in a hissing surge and for an oxygen-breathing corporeal this was disastrous.

Lungs empty and throat raw the Doctor felt himself begin to die and it wouldn't take long in a vacuum, a fact the alien parasite was only too aware of.

The temon fled its host at once just as the Doctor knew it would and the second it did he activated his respiratory back-up system before giving the burning, smoking control systems a second sonic burst as a yellowish green ambience invaded the ruptured hull chronon radiation possibly the most dangerous type there was and he would know having spent a lifetime navigating the stuff.

As the time warp system went off line the ship exited the vortex immediately on a reverse trajectory, spat out like an irritating fly in the direction it had come from a small blue sphere the Doctor had visited often and he'd never been happier to see it.

As chronon radiation flooded the mid-section he backed away from it knowing complete escape was impossible, indeed it had already invaded his cells so wasting no more time he studied the terminals within reach, everything he needed was here including tubes of mercury.

Knowing he wouldn't have time to remove them later he set about stripping them now. This ship was going to crash roughly where it had taken off, if he could get it to crash into the river so much the better as the water would absorb most of the explosion and dissipate the radiation.

All he had to do then was swim to shore and get back to the tardis with his haul of goodies intact, no mean feat with chronon particles eroding his cellular structure.

Body blazing hot and limbs trembling the Doctor was at least free of the temon and had defeated its scheme to invade corporeal space, he'd have to be more careful in future whilst travelling the vortex in case other passengers attached themselves to the outer shell maybe a new forcefield or perhaps he should update the chameleon circuit something he'd been planning to do for 12 incarnations.

Hitting earth's atmosphere with a crashing thud the fatally crippled craft flipped over madly bits of it breaking off including the dorsal fin all flamed up in seconds, the damage within was less dramatic but still included a string of minor explosions and further poisoning of the life support system.

It was lucky the Doctor could suspend his breathing or he'd have died very rapidly, he was dying anyway as the chronon particles ravaged his DNA and vital organs if he could just make it back to the tardis and do the repairs or at least reach the tardis because once inside he'd be safe to...

The river Thames loomed below a long winding ribbon of blue and a curious theme tune filled his head, oh not that surely he didn't have TV theme tunes in his memory and certainly not soap operas he hated them.

Strapping himself into the one remaining chair the co-pilot's seat he braced himself for impact, with no inertial dampers it was going to be tough. Closer and closer came the water as the ship's outer hull burned and melted, within him there was also burning and melting the destruction of cell and tissue, the pollution of blood and the breakdown of his central nervous system.

You're dying Doctor or at least your current body is breaking down at the most fundamental level and soon you'll lose control of essential muscles groups, just hang on fight it fight to stay alive just a bit longer.

Ship hit water, water invaded its cavities as these tore apart, the chronon radiation was swept away and the only passenger was also swept away clutching tightly to a polythene bag of electronic spare parts.

Many people saw the light aircraft crash into the river, very few did anything about it beyond gossip on twitter but one who did was an off duty paramedic called Andy Stephens he dialled 999 and ran to the river's edge from his apartment.

There wasn't much to see very little wreckage and no oil slick but then his sharp eyes did pick something out a bulk or mass floating near the weeds at the edge of the Thames. It looked like a bag at first but why would a bag be dressed in clothes?

Jumping feet first into the cold water Andy swam to the body, a man's body he was sure, and pulled it towards some steps that led to a low jetty. The body was slender and thus not too heavy with thick grey hair and a heavily lined face, a wino he thought at first but there was no stink of booze, some senile old man perhaps who'd gotten lost and fallen into the river.

The old guy was clutching tightly to a polythene bag full of small electronics and a tube of some viscous liquid, even half drowned he didn't release his strong grip on this.

About to administer CPR Andy was amazed when blazing blue eyes flicked open to pierce him with a hypnotic look, the guy's skin had a soft glow to it a light yellow ambience that extended to his hands and he was clearly in a lot of pain.

"Ambulance on the way chum just hang on," he said as the man sat up, checked himself, checked the bag then stood up with no gulp, gasp or cough as though he had no water in his lungs at all.

"Can't wait," he said in a soft Scots accent then took one step before his knees gave out and he fell into a pair of strong arms.

"Easy mate you're not going anywhere," Andy worked out he was fit and as a life guard he was used to semi-drowned people, this guy didn't strike him as one.

"Yes I am the tardis," the man fought to right himself but was too weak.

"Why don't you let go of the bag," said Andy but clutching this to his chest the old man shook his head in a definite no.

"Must repair the tardis."

Not having a clue what this was Andy heard a distant siren that he hoped was arriving help, "Where you the pilot of that plane," he asked as the man was so lucid and received a confused look before the Doctor stood straight up.

"Thank you for your help but I have to go now," he said politely but firmly.

"You need to go to hospital, my god your skin is glowing."

"My skin along with the rest of me is dying, chronon radiation."

Bewildered Andy tried to stop the guy he really did but despite his youth and strength he ended up on his back, flipped there with amazing ease and the Doctor held up both hands apologetically before saying, "still got it," and backing away as the siren grew louder.

"Hey come back," Andy tried to get up and was surprised to find he couldn't, he had almost no bodily control at all.

"You'll be fine," the Doctor insisted, "But I won't," and off he jogged on stiff legs up some steps and along a path, where the hell was he going?

When the ambulance arrived Andy was slowly getting back to his feet, Bob and Chris jumped out two people he knew and they were both amazed to see him so shaky. "He went that way," Andy pointed, "Grey hair, long coat; I think he's Scottish but not pissed."

The two paramedics set off at an impressive pace but Andy didn't follow he didn't feel up to it, what had granddad done to him how could the guy be so capable when he'd surely almost died?

They found it after ten minutes and neither could believe what they were seeing, indeed Bob had only ever seen one in a museum before and Chris was totally flummoxed, "Is that a movie prop," she asked being only 20?

"I don't think so," said Bob approaching the police box which seemed brand new and freshly painted, "The old man can't be hiding inside it can he?"

Neither of them could see a fleeing figure or fallen body anywhere and this was open waste ground, then a piercing note filled the air mutating into a discordant symphony of trumpets and roars, a cool breeze blew them back and ruffled their hair then the box began to fade becoming opaque then a ghostly silhouette before melting away totally as though it had never existed at all.

The console had its hum back its old hum of health and vitality, the mercury flowing through its veins had initiated auto-repair and new terminals were growing before the Doctor's eyes, even though his vision was fading he could see the console room rebuilding itself, remoulding and metamorphosing at amazing speed.

When finished it would be a new design a completely different control room for a completely different him, he slumped to his knees tired and damaged beyond hope with no companion to ask him what was wrong or hold his hand or worry about him.

He was alone totally alone as the energy of change rose up through his being like an erupting volcano touching every cell and atom, galvanising them to new life to build a new Doctor. The old Doctor permitted himself a smile, death wasn't so bad not for a time lord because there was always something after it something to look forward to; something to see with new eyes, touch with new hands and enjoy with a new enthusiasm.

Rebirth he thought I'm going to be reborn and it doesn't bother me because I've done it all before.

After death comes light, a small pinprick of brilliant white luminosity growing into a coin then a sun and then a field of total whiteness.

After the light comes life, energy and strength flowing into limbs and toes, skin and tissue, the firing of neurons and synapses, the flickering of eyelids and a burgeoning awareness of difference, strangeness.

Eyes that were the wrong colour looked back at the Doctor from a face that was too round, too full with shorter darker hair and flatter ears. He took in a nose, lips, cheeks and chin that were unknown to him then his gaze dipped to oddly large hands with thick fingers and square nails.

He did not know this body as he had never worn it before, new bodies like new shoes had to be broken in and grown used to before they became comfortable. He felt strong though and more agile before with looser joints and more muscle mass, the first impressions were promising this was a body that could have some serious adventures.

His clothes didn't fit being tight around a burlier torso, he had to undo the buttons and trouser belt to breathe properly with his new lungs; good strong lungs from the feel of them. It was normal for the memory to be scrambled after 'the change' and so it was this time, but of one thing he was clear he had made a mistake and left a task undone.

The tardis hummed and swelled as if in greeting, new things shone brightly, new terminals came online flashing exciting new displays a mix of numerals, symbols and some human words. The old girl was in flight but curiously she was in a holding pattern an orbit awaiting instructions from her pilot.

That pilot rubbed his new smoother skin and tried to think what it was he had failed to complete, he recalled being possessed by the temon and its ejection in the vortex but there was something else an anomaly.

The ship he'd been aboard the one that had crashed into the water, yes it was about that something that didn't add up.

I must go back thought the Doctor, return and get to the bottom of this I can't leave earth not quite yet or this time period.

Despite feeling tired, dizzy and rather dissociated he let the new fingers tickle controls just before staggering to the tardis wardrobe to find things a couple of sizes larger and more to his new taste.

The TV studio was still decked out with cheesy film posters about invasions, monsters and rampaging bugs that gung go American soldiers would blast into oblivion. The boy presenter was back in his usual place mouthing platitudes and asking inane questions whilst a revitalised Sir Keith held court.

There was no sign of the trauma he'd recently been through, indeed it was as thought nothing had ever happened as the portly man derided blurry UFO images and emotional accounts of being abducted as "hysterical poppycock," much to the amusement of the heavily vetted studio audience.

Sir Keith was in his element a man born to do this kind of banal TV fare, behind him was the lurid poster of giant ant-like aliens zapping unsuspecting small town Americana ' They're here now look out' cried the tagline as the CGI monsters peered out with bulging compound eyes.

"Aliens simply do not exist," said Sir Keith with the certainty of a man who'd never meet one, "There is no credible proof of their existence anywhere."

The boy presenter looked uncomfortable without a talking stuffed dog by his side, his usual companion.

"Are you sure Sir Keith, what of the recent reporters from Chile about the farmer abducted…"

Cutting in sharply the scientific adviser waved podgy hands as if batting away mosquitoes, "I'm afraid I find this account the least credible of them all, why would alien visitors even go to Chile of all places why not turn up at a G8 summit or this studio."

"One has," said a voice to one side of the seated audience causing everyone to look around with wide eyed shock and the bald director of the show Marvin to drop his clipboard.

"Who said that," Sir Keith blustered peering into the shadows beyond the arc lamps and a man he didn't know stepped into view tall and burly in a blue jacket. A confident fit looking fellow not one of these weedy short-sighted anoraks who spent all night camped in a field hoping to see a light in the sky.

"I did," replied the man firmly, how had he gotten passed security, "Remember me Sir Keith, oh but wait a moment I looked different the last time thinner, greyer, older."

Marvin and several of the studio team advanced on the intruder who raised a thin silver pen-like object with a blue tip that buzzed, gripping their earphones in agony the TV personnel sank to their knees as the Doctor strode onto the cheesy set pushing a camera aside to confront the star guest.

Somewhat flummoxed but still angry Sir Keith glared at the man obviously some kind of lunatic, "I think you're in the wrong place sir," he said unctuously.

Meeting his gaze the Doctor smiled, "We both are," he said moving around to face the seated figure with folded arms and a quizzical expression, "It was the ship I didn't get, the cloaked shuttle in the underpass, the one the temon wanted to repair only it didn't belong to him originally so who did it belong to who'd left it there?"

Affecting total puzzlement Sir Keith shook his head pityingly as though confronted by a simpleton, "I'm afraid you've lost me," he said.

"No Sir Keith," the Doctor purred, "It's you who blindsided me for a while. Why did the temon hitch a ride on my tardis just to come here to this studio on the night this miserable excuse for entertainment is being recorded? Answer he was looking for you because he knew you'd be here, the owner of that ship," the wider younger head shook, "You're not the real Sir Keith Happenstance at all are you; you're an alien a real alien not one of these Hollywood clichés."

No laughter from the audience, a choked protest from the presenter and from Sir Keith a look of surprise but not too much of it.

"If that were true then why do I look like Sir Keith, why do I have his clothes, his credit cards and his memories?"

"Stolen," said the Doctor, "Acquired by some means, not hard for a shape shifter," the sonic played over the fat man, "But disguises can be cast aside as easily as they can be assumed," the note from the sonic grew in pitch making the studio lights flicker, the cameras to spin and something even stranger happen to the star guest.

His whole outline shimmered, blurred and pulsated the image projected breaking down and pixelating wildly as the human features were slowly replaced by something else, something incredible, exotic and not remotely human.

Screams echoed around the Doctor as did the sounds of panic and flight even the presenter had abandoned his comfy seat to stumble away behind a large cardboard cut out of a flying saucer.

Red eyes regarded the Doctor slanted and bright, feral and cunning they peered out from a lumpy, scaly somewhat amphibious face devoid of hair but still possessing thick jowls only now sharp spines protruded from them white and stiff. Upon the bald head were several small but needle sharp horns and red spots dotted the cheeks and crested neck of the alien pilot.

The Doctor nodded, "I thought so," he said, "The technology was a dead giveaway," he stood back as the pilot rose on thickly muscled legs, "Humans are no good to temons, too feeble too unreliable they need a more robust constitution like mine or yours," he faced the pilot, "Sorry about your ship but we can always use mine."

From the throat of the squat powerful alien came a rasp of what might have been amusement then in a voice that gargled a parody of Sir Keith but born of pond not privilege the pilot responded, "I've no desire to leave," and in one thick webbed claw he held a small blaster, "Life here is good."

Taking in the weapon (small but powerful) the Doctor nodded, "You've stolen a life that isn't yours I can't allow that."

By now uniformed security staff had arrived three of them big burly men with night sticks and advancing on the stage they wielded these.

Without pausing the alien pilot fired his blaster and a large TV camera simply dissolved it melted away in a burst of purple light.

The Doctor tensed relieved that an object had been hit and not a person; cameras could be replaced. "I'm staying here Doctor and there's nothing you can do about it."

Moving right in front of the blaster until its phase discharge lens was almost touching him the time lord smiled and shook his head knowing he was taking a huge risk, "Think so," he said cheekily and touched his sonic to the barrel of the gun knowing the power of one would react with the energy of the other; which it did that reaction blowing back into the alien pilot in an impressive display of pyrotechnics.

"Nothing to worry about," the cowering onlookers were told, "I've got this completely under control," said the Doctor just before the energetic reaction flowed from the alien to him punching them both right through a movie poster and the thin partition beyond, which hadn't been part of the plan.

When he came to the alien found himself in a chamber far bigger and far stranger than any TV studio, the clash of styles, colours, textures and shapes were mind numbing but his gaze soon picked out a familiar figure stood over a hexagonal console above which a tube vibrated whilst its inner workings rose and fell.

"A tardis," the alien croaked.

"My tardis actually," the Doctor thumbed a switch as he turned to survey his passenger.

"Where are you taking me," unfolding from an elegant French armchair the bulky pilot hunted for his gun but there was no sign of it.

"Home, your home," he was told.

"You can't know where I'm from," the pilot snorted.

"The tardis does, one dab of your DNA was all it took; Prometheus Nine in the Argella constellation – damp, hot, smelly and just perfect for an oversized frog like you."

Rasping with anger at the slur the frog advanced on his host claws spread wide and they were big claws to, more than capable of spreading any humanoid life form. Then they hit something electrical, powerful, a barrier.

"Internal force field," the Doctor explained able to isolate the central console from the rest of the ship, "I thought you might try to attack me and I do so hate crude violence not like you eh Vastis?"

At the sound of his name Vastis flinched as though struck amazed this odd man should know it, he hadn't used this form of address for a long time.

The Doctor explained, "I rang on ahead and spoke to your people, it seems you wanted on P9 for a whole raft of offences including the theft of that cloaked ship, some people want to talk to you," the materialisation sound began to fill the air, "Ah we've arrived."

"Please," pleading sounded strange coming from the harsh throat, "Don't let them take me, they'll kill me."

"I plea bargained your sentence down to eight decades; couldn't get it any lower than that," it was a good job the tardis database had a file on Promethean law as it wasn't one of the Doctor's strong suites in any of his lives.

"You seem to have outwitted me Doctor I congratulate you," Vastis gave a mocking bow as the main doors opened and two bloated creatures almost identical to him entered carrying blasters with red bands on their left arms that bore a military crest.

"He's all yours," said the time lord looking from prisoner to escort and back again, "I asked them not to use cuffs in here, very distressing and terribly bad form."

But Vastis didn't move he kept glaring at the man before him as did the two Promethean cops; something wasn't right, why weren't they taking their man into custody. A low chuckle escaping his throat Vastis seemed to inflate with pride, "So you spoke to the federal authorities on P9 did you Doctor, are you sure about that; are you certain your signal wasn't interrupted?"

Not sure of anything now the time lord leaned on the console to study the 3 aliens, not only were they very similar in appearance they had the same cruel glint in their eyes the same manic intensity.

Vastis said, "Sura, Devlar; he has a small force field around him remove it will you."

Levelling their blasters the two amphibians aimed first at the Doctor then redirected their aim to a cable running up the right wall winding its way around a black fluted pillar, they fired and the cable erupted into a forest of green sparks.

The Doctor felt the field around him fluctuate and lose power; these frogs weren't so stupid he had underestimated them totally; fortunately they had underestimated him to, him and his ship.

"I don't allow weapons fire in the console room," he told them very calmly, "In fact I dislike it so much I've programmed in some defence protocols."

The force field collapsed leaving him exposed as Sura and Devlar advanced to re-aim at him as Vastis enjoyed his moment of triumph, "You lose," he said smoothly, "This is now our ship."

"You know what Vastis I preferred you as Sir Keith," not entirely true but the insult had the desired effect as Vastis marched right up to the Doctor.

"I am going to teach you a lesson in manners time lord," he lunged and his claws went right through the man stood there because that man wasn't actually stood there at all, the hologram flickered and faded as the claws of Vastis slammed into the console itself.

Light surged into the alien then jumped from him to the others cocooning them in blue auras, all three caught in a powerful arcing web that caused them to scream with pain then vanish teleported away from the ship out onto their home planet.

Emerging into view the real Doctor solid and alive hit the 'door-close' button then went over to an old fashioned rotary phone, picking up the top section of this he spoke into it, "Got them," he asked and a voice like that of Vastis only softer and calmer possibly female replied.

"Yes Doctor the gang are in custody, thank you for your help."

No problem thought the burly man, "Glad to be of service."

The speaker responded, "You are welcome to stay on our world as a guest of the authorities, you could even attend the trial of Vastis and the others."

That didn't appeal at all he wasn't into trials having endured a few of his own, it was time to go to leave P9 and voyage across the universe and embrace his destiny so he said a polite thank you and declined.