Tears of Time
Episode 2
The Hellfires of Siberia - Part 1:
Hey, guys! Thanks for checking out the second story in my 'series', Tears of Time - there's not much you need to know about the series to enjoy it, but you may find some stuff a bit confusing without knowing what happened in the first story. If you are interested, check out the first episode, For Time Begins Anew, by clicking on my username, the-majestic-tale. Thanks again for reading, and enjoy!
"How often do you go traveling around the universe, acting heroic all the time?"
"Do you want the short answer, or the long answer?"
"The short answer, I suppose."
"Only on days ending in 'y'."
The Doctor stood at the TARDIS console, waving his hands over a chrome matrix of dials, levers and buttons. Lyra, on the other hand, was sprinting around the halls of the time machine, examining every single oddity she came across - clocks, gears, and strange creations all leaped out at her. She had just made it up a set of silver stairs when a set of bookshelves caught her eye.
"My goodness, look at that! An alien bookshelf!" she cried out, running her fingers across dozens of faded books written in an otherworldly language. "And over there!" she continued, running over to a chalkboard covered in circular symbols. She stooped down to pick up a piece of chalk from below the board, and she held it up to her face. "Alien chalk! Who would have thought that beings from other worlds would use chalk?"
"That's not alien chalk, Lyra. I ordered it on eBAY back in 1642." The Doctor retorted.
"What's eBAY?"
"Something you humans won't invent for about 150 years, relative to your time."
"Then how could you order chalk using 'eBAY' in 1642? That makes no sense, Doctor."
"Lyra, you're standing in a time machine created by one of the most advanced races in the universe. If I want to get chalk in 1642, I will find a way to get it. But that's not important right now. The offer is still on the table - where shall we go first, Lyra? Your choice."
Lyra raced down the TARDIS' steps to join The Doctor at the console. "Are you serious?" she asked. "Anywhere in the universe?"
"Anything that ever happened, anything that will happen - just say where and when, and we'll be off."
A smile crept across Lyra's face. "Well… there is one place I've read about in this really great pamphlet..."
"Pamphlet? What pamphlet?"
"Oh, you wouldn't like it. You would think it's too dull."
"No, I wouldn't think that at all. Here, look at this!" The Doctor guided Lyra over to a display screen bolted just above the main controls. He pulled the screen over to the two of them, positioning it so it rested above a brass keyboard. "One of the perks, as you might call it, of the TARDIS is that you can just type in the name of a publication, and get information on it in a moment."
"So, it's like a library?"
"No - more like the internet. Well, exactly like the internet, I suppose."
"What's the internet?"
"Doesn't matter, there'll be time for all of that later on. It would just raise further questions." The Doctor rushed. "Just type in your pamphlet name, and we'll get going."
Lyra moved to the brass keyboard, and anxiously scanned it, examining the letters. After about thirty seconds, she poked her index finger on the letter "A". After about thirty more seconds, Lyra squeaked out, "How do you add a space between words?"
The Doctor was dumbfounded. "How do you not know that? Haven't you ever used a typewriter before?"
"What's a typewriter?"
"Oh, that's right. You're from 1850 - you won't see one of those 'till 1868 at the earliest. No matter: press that long key down there for spaces," The Doctor continued, pointing down at the keyboard's space bar.
Lyra pressed the space bar, and then pressed the "M" key. Then, the "O". Then, the "N".
"Look, how long is it going to take you to type this title in? Because I'm not exactly the most patient person you've ever met, you know."
Lyra pressed the "O" key again. Then, the "G". Then, the "R".
"Lyra, what's the name of the pamphlet?"
"A Monograph of Permian Fossils of England." Lyra sputtered out in one breath.
"There we go - now, I'll just type it in for you." The Doctor reached over to the keys, and got about halfway through the title before the clicking of the keys stopped. The Doctor pulled his hands off of the keyboard, and stared at Lyra. "Just so you know, you sound way too enthusiastic about a dull old pamphlet like that."
"I told you you would find it dull!"
"Wait a minute, you want to go meet the guy who wrote this thing? Why would you do that?"
"No, I don't. Why would I want to meet a chap who writes science pamphlets? That's ridiculous."
"Then why did you have me pull up this particular pamphlet then?"
"Well, I was thinking we could go and see what some of these Permian rock-layer fossils looked like in real life! You know, millions of years in the past? Haven't you ever wanted to know what ancient plants, bivalves and fish were like?"
The Doctor gaped at Lyra incredulously. "Yea, I did once. Do you know what I did after that? I knocked some sense into myself, and stuck my head into a river. There were lots of plants, bivalves and fish there - it's almost as if nothing's really changed there since the Permian era! So please, pick sometime else."
"Doctor, you said-"
"Or better yet, pick somewhere else! If you want to see the Permian, let's go see some Edaphosaurus in Texas! You'll love them - big sails, plant eaters, interesting mating dances. Everything's better in Texas, that's what you humans all say!"
"I'm not really sure that's what-"
"Oh, my mistake. I don't think I got that phrase right - I have some bad memories of Texas. So, it's settled, then?"
"No, Doctor! That's not what I meant!"
"Or, if that's not up your alley, why not go to the middle Permian? Or better yet, go even earlier in time and see millipedes as tall as this box! Not the actual height of the inside, but the outside, of course. We could go to the Siberian Death Traps and watch the continents split, for all I care! But please, we're not going to some stupid creekbed to see fish."
"That is what I requested, and I - wait one minute, did you just say 'Siberian Death Traps'?"
"Bigger!" The Doctor shouted in a staccato manner.
"I'm sorry?"
"Everything's bigger in Texas, not better! My mistake. You humans and your phrases."
"What did you mean exactly by 'Siberian Death Traps', Doctor?"
"Well, they should actually be referred to as the Siberian Traps. The 'death' part makes them sound loads more interesting, don't you think?"
"They sound quite nice, but I'm not entirely sure that-"
The Doctor sprung into action, taken over by a burst of inspiration. "I'm overruling your decision!" he shouted. "You clearly wouldn't have asked about the traps if you weren't interested in visiting them yourself, so we should go there instead! Problem solved."
"Traps or not, why won't you-"
"Look, I know you're not too big on my hijacking of your plans - but I'll tell you what. I'll make it up to you. You choose our next excursion, perhaps one into the future, and I'll let you use some of the TARDIS controls on the way to Siberia. Besides, it'll be great fun!" The Doctor gestured for Lyra to go around to the other side of the console, where a familiar chrome lever rested. While waiting for Lyra, The Doctor pressed some more buttons, turned a golden dial, and swiped his hand across a network of cables and fibers.
"2-5-2," The Doctor muttered, pressing each number's respective keys. "There. I've set the TARDIS to travel back 252 million years in time, give or take a couple thousand, right to our destination."
"And that destination is?"
"Right in the heart of the Siberian traps!" The Doctor replied with a childlike grin on his face.
"I thought you said I could use some of the controls!"
"Did I say some? I really meant one - sorry about that." The Doctor guided a reluctant Lyra over to the chrome lever, and wrapped her pale hand around the handle, which radiated a gentle heat. "All you have to do is move this lever, and we'll be in ancient Siberia in no time!"
"How does it work?"
"You move the lever, the engines go, and we end up in Siberia!"
"Is it really that simple? Is traveling through time as easy as pulling a lever?"
"If I really wanted to tell you how all of this time travel business actually worked, I would need about three days of your time, and a flow chart - neither of which I have as of right now."
"Does it matter which way I move the lever?"
"No, it doesn't. Pull, push, what does it matter? Send us off, Lyra!"
Lyra smirked and pushed the lever, producing a metallic clanking sound that shook the console. Just as they had done many times before, the rotors atop the console spun and spun, and lights above flared, flashed and flickered. Lyra had only begun to pay attention to the pattern that the lights made when they flashed when all motion stopped, and the TARDIS let out one last groan and a thud.
The Doctor and Lyra had stepped out of the TARDIS into a barren, sandy wilderness. The sun burned relentlessly above them, nestled in a cloudless blue sky, and rocky outcrops dusted the plains. Not even a speck of green could be found for miles - in fact, the only thing that appeared to contrast the dull beiges and yellows of the sand was the TARDIS itself. To the side of the box, about five miles away, rested four massive formations - sand dusted, jagged volcanoes.
"Frankly, I'm not quite sure where we are at all… I don't get it! The volcanoes are here, but there's not nearly enough of them! Where's the Panthalassic ocean? Where's the lava traps? Where are the Lystrosaurus?"
"Maybe we're in the wrong place?"
"No, we're not. If we were, I would know it." The Doctor crouched down, and scooped up a handful of sand, letting it trickle through his fingers. "More accurately, if we were in the wrong place, I wouldn't have heard the end of it from her."
"Her?"
The Doctor pointed to the blue box behind him, which was now dusted with sand. "Yea, my box. It's a her."
"And you're sure your ship would have told you if you went to the wrong place?"
"I'm positive! I did everything correctly - flipped some switches, turned a dial, punched in the numbers, and pulled the…" The Doctor's words trailed off, and his voice grew quiet. "Remember how I told you it didn't matter which way you moved that lever?"
"Yes?"
"Which way did you move it?"
"I don't know - I believe I pushed it forwards, Doctor."
A look of realization filled The Doctor's face. "Lyra, I was wrong. It did matter which way you moved that lever."
"How so?"
"If you pushed that lever, then we are in the exact same place - just the wrong time."
"What is your point?" Lyra asked, walking across the burning-hot sands, scanning the horizon for anything noteworthy.
"Lyra, you didn't send us 250 million years into the past. You sent us 250 million years into the future. This is the same site of the Siberian traps - we're just 500 million years too late."
"Why didn't you tell me that I should have pulled the lever instead of pushing it?"
"Because I was an idiot! Well, I'm always an idiot, more or less - just a slightly larger one in this case. No problem, however! We'll just jump back in my box, and go back to the right time!"
"Doctor, what is that?" Lyra cast her hand over the sands, drawing The Doctor's attention to something on the horizon. "Could it be another volcano?"
"No, it's not." The Doctor stepped forward, and saw dark smoke and ash rise into the blue sky - not a volcano, but a roaring fire. "Listen to me, Lyra. How did that fire get started?"
"What does that have to do with anything? Can't we just go back to where we meant to go in the first place?"
"No, Lyra. Look around! There's nothing to burn in a fire around here! No wood, no plants, nothing!"
"So?"
"Who made that fire?"
"You might want to ask them…" Lyra continued, pointing to a new series of shapes that made their way in front of the crackling fire. In front of The Doctor and Lyra were six figures, perhaps human, dressed in fiery robes of red, orange and yellow, thick with sand. The air was filled with primal whoops and grunts, which only grew louder as the troop approached the TARDIS. As the figures grew closer, The Doctor and Lyra could both discern that all six of the beings had deep, black hair, and blood red paint spread across their faces. In their hands were long, thin spears made of metal, yet still were as red as their faces. There was little time for any movements on The Doctor and Lyra's behalf, and before they could even think getting inside the TARDIS, the two found themselves surrounded by spear points and six seething, flaming faces.
"You…" one of the men began, hissing and spitting through his black teeth, "you carry a bad omen to our people…"
"Bad omen? No, you've got it all wrong! We're just passing through here! It's lovely meeting all of you-"
The Doctor was cut off by the shaking of the ground beneath them. A deep rumble filled the air, but it was drowned out by the cries of the men with spears. Primal noises and hoots rang out, and all of the men turned to face the volcanoes that loomed over the sand flat. The Doctor turned his head, and gestured for Lyra to do the same - a plume of smoke churned out of the heart of the volcanoes, slowly replacing blue sky with grey ash. Meanwhile, the frenzied screams of the men surrounding Lyra and The Doctor changed: they were no longer cries of fear from the scene.
If anything, they resembled a battle cry.
The guttural, primeval cry of a different man came into focus. "You are cursed… and you bring a curse on us, a dying people… you have brought hellfire on us all!"
The spears of all six men came closer to the two time travelers, causing Lyra to jump slightly. Without warning, the men began to move away from the TARDIS, spears locked firmly in place, giving Lyra and The Doctor no choice but to remain with the wanderers, regardless of where they would be taken.
"You know, come to think of it, a creek with plants, bivalves and fish in it would be a lovely place to visit, don't you think, Lyra?"
