Episode 1
The sun shines on central California even in the early twenty-first century. Westward and on the coast where the air is thicker, the sky is as bright as that over desert-land. Outside, the squat and flat buildings throughout the city of Cupertino proffer meager shade. Inside, they are refrigerated to temperatures equivalent a Spring morning.
"The Santa Cruz Mountains are on the wrong side of the globe," the Doctor tells Romana. "The people on the West Coast don't have the benefit of early evenings. Every day is one late afternoon."
These two travelers fly over the American mountain crest in the TARDIS, the Doctor's traveling time machine. Stuck in the blue shape of a last-century British police call box, the also space-craft zips through the air with both its door open wide. A protective pressure keeps out gale force winds and lets inside a breeze.
Romana stands gently blown in the doorway. Her strawberry hair and waist-length ivory scarf waft into the beige console room. "I'm happy you put the desktop back. The air circulation is much better in this one."
The Doctor glances up from behind a bobbing hexagonal TARDIS console. He sniffs the breeze, one too weak and can't disturb one lock of his wild hair. His ridiculously long scarf and woolen overcoat stay locked in place, both too heavy and more inert than the force field at the front entrance.
"I was thinking of putting the top down, for this flight you know," the Doctor tells his companion.
Romana protests. "Please, no."
The Time Lady spins from the open doors and playfully staggers toward the console. She rephrases the Doctor's comment. "More like take the top off. Please, take off the brake when the TARDIS lands. It's grating."
"I will," promises the Doctor. "As soon as I find the control."
Romans frowns and strolls toward the exit into the time machine's catacomb. She keeps private quarters somewhere inside the labyrinth. Simply passing the threshold takes her there, but not yet. Before leaving, she complains "You moved the lever to hide it from me."
Past the doorway, her voice becomes a fuzzy echo. "Is it even a lever anymore?"
The Doctor talks to himself. "No, it was in the way. The last thing we want is if I, or you or someone else, press stop the moment we try and get out the jaws of a hungry space manatee."
"What did you say?" Romana asks when she reappears.
The Time Lady keeps her waist-length scarf and now wears khaki shorts, a white blouse, a straw hat and big, kooky sunglasses. She tells the Doctor "California is warm, a lot like Clio Two. Will you change your clothes?"
The Doctor stands upright and adjust his tawny coat. Underneath, he lacks a vest and his favorite fob watch. Unobstructed by other garments, he tugs a bare, long-sleeve, pullover shirt.
"I'm fine," he tells his companion. "You never know what you leave behind until you find it there again."
"You say that then you complain later."
"Complain? Whose got time to listen to complaints?"
The front doors shut automatically. Once they are closed, the Doctor snorts. The TARDIS then begins to wheeze.
"Exactly," Romana states resigned.
"Shh," The Doctor blows at his companion. The Time Lord then smiles a big smile. A wink comes after.
She inquires "We are at the art gallery."
"Of course."
Romana is suspicious. "You didn't nudge the controls or the Black Guardian didn't push us over the Pacific ocean."
"We're blowing in the wind," the Doctor claims and grins.
Romana disputes his free spirit. "We have temporal geometric navigation."
"We're here, look."
A single entry door opens in the seamless panel of huge, tilted glass domes surrounding the console room. Outside, a vast and busy reception room immediately welcomes the extraterrestrial visitors. They've come in an antiquated blue box groaned from nowhere and into existence.
The doctor bends and speaks to his computerized dog before joining his companion at the exit of his time machine. "K-9?"
"Yes, master," replies a motorized personal computer case modded with a metal canine head and a straight wire tail.
The Doctor tells his friend "Stay here. Lock the door and keep the windows up."
"And when I overheat?"
"That's easy, flush your cache. Good bye."
"Good bye, Doctor."
Chants of "Ooo" and "Ahh" are not done when the Doctor and Romana emerge from the TARDIS. The Doctor answers. "I love art galleries."
He does not speak to anyone in particular. In fact, he and Romana merely casually recognize and nod at everyone else. The Time Lord waxes for himself and any accidental audience. "Ideas are basic, common. It's their births people should celebrate. Every new idea is a newborn child. Sometimes babies come as twins or triplets or sextuplets..."
Romana prompts him. "Doctor."
"Octuplets?" he yet wonders aloud.
"Doctor."
"I'm saying it is a miracle. Every creative idea is a life of its own. One that can reproduce."
The Time Lady acts as she doesn't share the Doctor's sentiment. "I don't think this is that kind of show."
He tells her "You don't need to make it sound ominous."
"Hold on," he says. "What if if is? What if a whole mind can travel and reproduce itself through ideas? A single entity that impregnates every human mind on the planet and is born all at once?"
"I'm glad we're not doing that today. I thought we were looking at paintings," Romana says then walks into the Binger West Coat Gallery.
The Doctor tells her "That too."
He lets his companion leave the TARDIS by herself. Outside extra-dimensional time, Romana is distracted immediately. A precious six-year old brunette girl tells the Time Lady "You're pretty."
Romana replies "Thank you. I thought so when I picked this body."
Both the little girl and the immensely old Time Lady smile at each other. They happily stare at each other. Romana asks "What is your name"
"Clara."
"Where is your mother, sweetie?"
Little Clara gestures over her shoulder and says "She's the pretty lady over there."
Romana sees a family resemblance in a woman wearing a dark skirt and a peach blouse. The woman watches her daughter and waves at the stranger. The Time Lady returns the greeting with a smile. She speaks only the little girl.
"I'm Romana. I come from the stars. Where do you live?"
Inside the time machine, the Doctor lifts his absurd scarf from beneath his feet, the one striated with bands of stark earth tones. He then goes after Romana.
"C'mon, Romana. Don't give them candy. They'll eat too much."
The Time Lord passes his companion and the young lady she speaks with. He strolls into an unusually large crowd of patrons and anyone else who appreciates creative expression. The Doctor notes "This event resembles a convention more than it does an art exhibit."
"You can save your Jelly Babies for yourself," Romana tells him.
He eats three confections, each colored red, xanthous and blue.
On relaxed days together, as with this day, he is curious what his companion thinks. He asks her backside "Tell me, Romana, what do you look for in a painting."
She answers without turning around. "If one is spatially accurate and temporally correct."
"The laity," he grumbles to himself.
"Huh?" she asks over her shoulder.
He pokes her with a statement. "You call yourself a Time Lord."
"You do, too," she counters and tries to smile as wide as the Doctor.
Changing to the nature or this visit, the Doctor examines a standing placard. "Let me see, who is showing today?"
"I thought you wanted to see these artists," Romana interjects.
The Doctor tells her "The TARDIS did."
The Time Lady throws her head back and groans. She catches her straw hat before it tips backward off her slanted crown. "On our day off? This is what we do?"
"Suddenly, Doctor, this is not so fun."
Having no argument, the Time Lord tells Romana "No, but this is curious. Let's look. I don't think things will stay dull, they seldom do."
"Not when you come around, I suppose."
"Be civil, Romana. Sheesh, we Time Lords are a capricious bunch. Your sour attitude is why we should never travel alone. I know someone must usually remind me to be pleasant."
"Is a bunch what we are to you, Lord President."
"Stop it," he tells his companion. The Doctor then makes an agenda. "The artist Timothy Surrell has his state-of-digital art in a private forum here at this gallery. Let's go look at some Cave Art."
Romana smirks and gestures at the path toward the Surrell exhibit. The Doctor tips his floppy hat then leads the way. He takes the two travelers past a cue of people. At the start of this line, the Doctor opens a frosted glass interior entrance and turns around. He speaks to the confused assembly of visual arts connoisseurs.
"Hold on to your britches, folks. We're the San Fran press, critics. The show won't start just yet."
The Time Lord and his companion slip into the gallery division set apart for Mr. Surrell's electronic paintings and sculptures. Romana instantly notes "K-9 would love these pieces."
There is no order among dead video monitors, flashing red LEDs, empty colored plugs and hundreds of myriad-shape male connectors. And this space is the artist's presentation. Granted, the show was to begin and nothing had yet been powered on. An illuminated hall goes to rear chambers. A squat shadow lumbers out from this unaesthetic direction.
The Doctor has reservations about his companion's recommendation. He tells her "I'm not so sure. I wonder if his circuits would overload."
"You could find out."
"Oh, no. We don't need puppy bytes we can't give away."
"Not to a decent home," Romana quips before she and the Doctor are caught.
"You two, freeze," demands an overweight man wearing an overlarge gray suit. Minus his shadow, he appears shorter than his figure down the hall.
Wrinkles from weight shed from his face make him older than the man might be. Romana guesses he is forty-three but she is not an accurate judge of human age or that of any temporal primate. The Doctor is worst. They help each other the best they can.
The Doctor rambles while he waits to be apprehended. "Besides, I don't want tourists tripping over my pets. And no, I am not putting K-9 on a leash."
Neither Romana nor the Doctor move and time passes while the ill-fitted man closes distance between him and the pair of intruders. Nearby, he wheezes like the TARDIS.
"What are you two doing in here? The show is closed until three-fifteen."
"Commercial breaks," Romana cracks only for the Doctor's benefit. He grins and speaks to the illuminated shadow man.
"The door was open."
"It's shut now," the man explains with a stern tone.
The Doctor nods his head. "Yes, I closed it."
"Thank you," the man replies then stutters. "Err, get out."
"Jelly baby?" the Doctor asks him then removes a small, wrinkled paper purse from a front pocket of his overcoat.
"No, thank you," answers the human man. "I'm still paying that thirty thousand dollar loan for my porcelain crowns."
"Building yourself into a better man, hmm? Upgrading parts. I've known people like you."
The Doctor pries an opening into dialogue. "I was curious, Mister..."
Romana helps him concoct an alias and bolsters his ruse. "We're critics from the San Francisco press."
He questions "Again? And no appointment and no prior notification, again?"
The Doctor tells him. "The show is about to open, Mister..."
"You could have waited outside."
"We do apologize, don't we Roma-?"
The Time Lady nods her head then finally takes off her distorted sun glasses. The Doctor does not notice.
He tells the gallery attendant "I apologize. I am so very sorry, Mister..."
"Don, just Don. People call me the Don."
"I am pleased to meet you, Don. I'm the Doctor."
Romana tells Don "Call him Doctor. My name is Romana."
"I'm happy to make your acquaintance," Don tells her then extends his hand. The Doctor and Romana stare plump fingers and only smile until Don lets his arm drop. "Okay, if you'll go back outside..."
"But we'd like a private screening of Mr. Surrell's Opium Transistor Transitions," the Doctor tells Don before anyone moves. "For the press."
Don stammers. "What? I asked you both to leave. The show will start soon."
"Exactly," the Doctor tells him. "Think of all the people who will come inside here once those doors open. We won't be able to move around."
"But..."
Romana says "Madness."
"C'mon, Don. Just a peek, tick tock."
Frustrated neither questionable trespasser obeys his request they leave, Don exchanges agape stares with the Doctor, Romana then both of them again. The man stutters. Romana grins and states "Two minutes."
The Doctor tells him "You're outnumbered, Don. Two-to-one."
He relents. "Okay, come with me."
The Doctor and Romana smile at each other and follow the gallery attendant. The three go into the nondescript hall where Don emerged. Don opens the second door on his left and everyone enters an oblong theater. A concave television screen stands center stage. The rows of theater seats facing the performance are empty and there is no audience. Don behaves as an usher and a stage hand and he moves around his guests as if they were two living props.
"Hurry, the stage stairs are on your left. The Opium Transistor is an interactive project but it's not turned on. In either case, please don't touch the artwork."
"It's a machine," Romana says and she walks into the theater. The floor is sloped so she descends until the stage floor is just above the bridge of her nose. Her voice sounds as if it comes out a pit.
Following the Time Lady, the Doctor admonishes his companion. "Don't be insensitive."
"I know," she tells him. "I'm disappointed. Given where and when we are, I expected something in a nice case."
He attacks her expectations "Didn't I say Primitive?"
"I assure you, this is state-of-art," Don disclaims.
The Doctor says "We were told."
On the stage, the three people – the two Time Lords and one unhealthy, evolving primate – they visually inspect the apparatus. Identical other pieces created by Mr. Surrell, Opium Transistor Transitions is built upon commercial-grade electronic audio and visual components. They've been excised from their own cases.
The individual parts of Opium Transitions now appear as lit and wired circuit boards. These are suspended over one another and inside tubular metal racks. The central concave television screen is the actual piece – or more accurately – the medium from which the artwork is delivered. The Doctor and Romana give it no attention.
"Let me see the software," the Doctor requests from Don.
The gallery attendant replies "That's impractical."
"I think not," Romana tells him.
"It's compiled," Don states.
She says "Obviously."
The Doctor inquires "Let me speak to the artist. Did Mr. Surrell write the software himself? His bio outside reads he once worked at Adobe."
"That could be problem," Don admits. "Timothy Surrell is a sort of hermit. He hasn't been in communication with the GI Vault firm since his patents were resolved in the courts. The firm holds all licenses pertaining to this and other of the artist's pieces. They own the code. People think Surrell is dead. "
"Is that so?" asks the Doctor.
"I don't know, rumors in the Art World."
The Doctor ponders. "That does explain the branding everywhere."
"Who is GI Vault?" asks the Time Lady.
The Doctor tells her "Thank you, Romana. Those initials do sound familiar, at least in the context of now."
"A software firm." Don replies.
The Doctor reminds him "And those initials stand for?"
Don shrugs.
"They're a giant that came out of nowhere. The firm bought Apple's UFO-shaped office building when Android suddenly exploded and the PC market died altogether. They lost Silicon Valley. Hand-held devices were overwhelmed with open source operating systems. Linux now runs everything."
"I like Linux," the Doctor says. "It's full of ideas."
"It's GI Vault, now. They're eating up everything. The firm even owns this art gallery."
"Who can we talk to at GI Vault? PR, coders, the CEO?" inquires Romana.
The Doctor interjects. "The campus is nice. I was there when I was given the very first forty-second model iPod."
"Technology moves quickly, especially when there is competition," Don states.
Romana criticizes the human race. "You could move a little faster."
The Doctor answers in support for his companion. "Moore's fallacy."
"Uh-hum," comments the gallery attendant. "You're both over my head."
The Doctor assures him. "Relax. I'm sure we can find someone to talk to."
Voices come from outside the theater. Don curses. "Damn, somebody opened the door without me."
Romana refers to show times when she says "It is time."
Don tells her and the Doctor "You need to leave the performance space. You can come back with everyone else when this piece is presented. That is at Three-forty."
"Okay," the Doctor states.
He follows Don's gestures and walks off the stage and into the vacant audience seats. Romana follows him. He tells the Time Lady "We can visit Linus Torvalds. He's just over a continent and across the pond."
"The pond?"
"It's colloquial, British slang for the Atlantic ocean. I'm surprised you haven't heard of it until now. Media on this planet in this age saturates the planet."
The Doctor and Romana are near the door they used when they entered the theater. She grumbles "That may be the problem. Thank you for telling me."
Before the two Time Lords exit the performance space, Romana tells the Doctor "I don't want go back to cloudy skies yet. Let's wait."
"After the show," he replies and winks. Standing near the pair and feeling impatient, Don eavesdrops.
Aware of his presence, the Doctor asks him "Is this safe?"
"Of course," Don promises. "There's nothing invasive, we're not poking needles into someone's veins."
Romana is succinct. "But you are putting ideas into people's heads."
"It doesn't hurt," the gallery attendant promises.
The Doctor opens the door and lets Don handle a surprised tidal wave all by himself. "Opium Transistor Transitions isn't ready yet. Everyone, come back here in twenty minutes. We'll then let you sit in the seats."
Outside the interior theater and out of earshot of anyone relevant, Romana asks the Doctor "What are we really going to do?"
"Wait for the show."
She frets. "We don't have to."
"I thought you wanted a vacation," the Doctor states shocked. The alien male boggles. "People on vacation move extra slow in linear time."
"This is work."
"Oh, it's not so bad. This is mystery. We're not actually running around. Although that would make our little adventure more invigorating."
Romana gripes while the clock ticks. "Mysteries in popular entertainment died a generation ago. The genre couldn't keep up."
The Doctor states "Because of machines like these."
The Time Lords browse the Binger gallery. The whole time, the Doctor stretches a single thought. "Mankind suffers through a passing age, things will get better. Human beings are still evolving."
He and his companion are late to return. The theater door is open and there are no audience seekers waiting outside. The sight does not alarm either Time Lord. The Doctor tells Romana "We're right on time."
Episode 2
Little Clara is on stage. Romana spots her when the Time Lady and the Doctor enter the theater presenting Timothy Surrell's interactive performance piece. It's called Opium Transistor Transitions. The show is rated G. These alien visitors have arrived because the pair appreciate Art. Both are also suspicious.
"I met that little girl outside when we arrived," Romana tells the Doctor.
"I remember."
"Her name is Clara."
The Doctor replies "Clara, the most popular name in the universe."
Romana is wise and she asks the Time Lord "Is that true?"
"I meet girls named Clara all the time," he reports. "Sometimes they're boys." Up on stage, Clara faces from a full audience – there are no available seats so the Doctor and Romana stand near the front exit. All three look into a video monitor that wraps around either side of the girls' face. The girl's seated location is spacious and might easily accommodate a full grown man.
The spaces over her head and below her chin are open but those place are not where everybody looks. The audience and Clara watch the center of a flowering, patterned wallpaper displayed on the screen. Don is there with her. The stout man is a gallery attendant and he presents this show.
He narrates "Like all great men, Mr. Surrell wrote the software for this momentous piece in his garage."
The Doctor mumbles "It doesn't matter where one writes a novel."
"Shh." Romana names him. "Critic."
Don informs the audience "How can I describe this piece? Transcendental hallucination. I know, that sounds as oblique as the title. It's experiential television. Like 3D, it's been around since the invention of the vacuum tube. Unlike that extra dimension, Surrell's visual masterpiece demonstrates its concepts work. The GI Vault firm makes the genius of this wonderful artist commercially viable. This will be in everyone's homes, kids."
"This is how it starts," the Doctor whispers to Romana. "I remember something related to televisions from the future."
She asks him "What, thought insertion?"
"Shh."
The pair at the back of the audience listen to Don speak. "I apologize the Binger gallery presents this singular station. Technically, a screen like this one might stretch around an audience, this audience."
"Our volunteer, Clara, is first then we'll form a line. If we had a bigger screen, we could allow everyone to experience transcendence all at once. The GI Vault is working on that. They have a huge viewing chamber at the Cupertino office. I've seen it. It's bigger than IMAX. Injected with Surrell's opium, it is so much better."
The Doctor says to himself "That's new."
"Let's get moving," shouts an unidentified man from the audience.
Don replies "My thoughts exactly."
The gallery attendant moves toward a scalped DVD player and presses the Play button. From the perspective of the audience, seated attendants spy changing images. Bass pink and sea foam green predominate the colors. The forms are indistinct, at best from this distance.
Clara doesn't budge but Don insists the girl experiences "Tame bliss. There will be no trouble out of this one. Eager pleasure seekers can start a queue at stage left. Everyone can have a turn."
"Don't go up there," the Doctor tells Romana.
"Why not?" she wonders.
Don speaks the same time. He says "It helps to close your eyes when you exit a painting."
The Doctor continues speaking with his companion. "It won't work on us, for one. Two, the experience will be unrewarding."
The larger audience hears only the gallery attendant. He now uses a microphone. "Clara, honey. Just look up or down or turn around. You'll step out of the painting."
The little girl follows Don's instruction and spins around. The quick movement prompts her mother. The woman calls from the audience at stage left. "Clara, did you close your eyes?"
"Shut up," she tells her mother. The audience responds with giggles, groans and an ear-splitting "Tsk."
Romana tells the Doctor "That's not the little girl I met outside."
Coming off-stage, Clara slaps away her mother's hand. The woman grabs hold of the girl's arm and they hustle up the aisle. They go out the door the Doctor and Romana stand near.
The Doctor says to his companion "Let's follow her."
While the Time Lords leave, Don tells a building queue "Step into the field of vision, your peripheral vision is tricked and you'll see the world wrap around your head. You are unable to interact with outside while you're in the painting.."
Out of the theater and inside the Surrell presentation, Clara tells her mother "I hate you."
"What has gotten into you?" her mother demands from her daughter.
Following them as the related pair tromp and are dragged toward the exit, Romana comments "That's what I'd like to know."
The Doctor explains. "She kept her eyes open. That can cause psychotic behavior."
His companion asks "So soon?"
"Right away."
"Will she recover?"
The mother and daughter leave the Binger gallery. Both are out of sight until the Doctor and Romana are outdoors. Clara stands at the curb while her mother waits for traffic lights to change. She will not cross the street until she is presented with glowing letters. Watchful, her attention remains on the crosswalk. Clara stares at a dog – a yellow mutt, possibly a Labrador mix.
The animal stands next to the little girl. It pants and wags its tail. And the friendly creature does not belong to Clara or her mother. Un-bothered, the girl loosens the leash holding the animal to a metal sign post. When the dog jumps up and tries to thank the girl with a gooey tongue, she stomps her foot.
The frightened animal bolts into traffic and it is hit by a passing truck. The vehicle does not stop and Clara's mother gasps. The whole time, Clara laughs.
"No one will recover soon enough," the Doctor shouts. The Time Lord feels enraged. The mad man grabs Clara's hand and pulls the girl back toward the Binger gallery.
Romana cautions him. "Doctor, that's kidnapping."
The little girl doesn't make a sound. Although, her mother hears Romana and is curious. She turns around. At first, she is as quiet as her daughter. The mother is stunned silent with her mouth hung open.
"The Zero Room," says the Doctor. He is tired of the girl's resistance and he scoops her into his arms. Her mother then screams.
"Stop," Romana yells at the woman.
The mother gasps "My baby and screams again.
More sympathetic, the Time Lady claims "It will be all right. The Doctor is helping her."
The Doctor vanishes into the gallery when the mother catches her breathe. The woman then shouts "Police," over again.
"Please," Romana insists. "Stop, let me explain."
When the woman does not quit, the Time Lady grabs the lady's ears. She clenches her jaw and squints her eyes. Next, she knocks her forehead against the woman's own.
Both ladies rub their heads. The woman moans but she sounds amazed. The only harm she displays is a red mark above her brow. "Oh."
"Get it?" Romana asserts and vigorously massages her scalp a last time.
"Yes," answers the mother.
Romana summarizes an explanation. "Time lords are telepathic. Us knocking heads helped give you a bump."
"I know who you are..."
"Yes, this is a gift either our races may develop but the Doctor and I see the future, all possible futures."
Seemingly forgetting her abducted child, the mother is more curious about Romana's abilities. "What do you with that knowledge."
Romana grabs the woman's hand and takes her back into the gallery. Inside, she escorts the mother to the TARDIS. On the way, the Time Lady answers questions. "It's easier to nudge an outcome toward the probable, but the Doctor, he likes to try the impossible."
Before the women go into the blue Time Machine, Romana tells the other "Let's see if the Doctor was in time. I hope he helped Clara."
"Oh, me too," the mother says before she steps into the painted wooden box. Inside, her statement changes into "Oh my."
"Yes, big," Romana tells the woman and tugs her through the console room.
Past the opposite threshold, the women appear outside the Zero Room inside the TARDIS. The Doctor stands inside this antechamber of stoic zen. Peace feels as thick as salt water. Clara floats atop its surface. The little girls sleeps and floats prone in the air.
Without even a glance at his company, the Doctor says "The people of earth is very fortunate this little girl suffered her trial. We might have never discovered this mind."
"Clara's mind?" Romana asks him.
"No, a powerful force, an ancient evil," purports the Doctor. "I don't know what nether god is waking up, but it must be stopped."
He adds "Clara is fine. She only needs rest."
"Is that why the TARDIS brought us here?" asks Romana.
"Yes, otherwise we'd have been busy doing nothing at the Asian Art Museum of San Francisco."
Afraid to touch her daughter, the woman Romana has brought into the TARDIS speaks to the Doctor. "Thank you. Oh my goodness, thank you."
The Doctor turns around and removes his flopping hat. "Oh, hello. I'm the Doctor."
The woman gushes "I know."
"You do?" asks the Doctor. The Time Lord looks at his companion. Romana taps her forehead with a knuckle and winches. Her companion concludes "Well, I suppose that was an emergency."
He looks back at the mother. "Your little Clara is fine now."
"Thank you," she answers.
"And your name?" he asks. Romana shrugs.
The mother tells them both "Juanita de Anza, Juani."
"Hello, Juani."
Excited, he then recommends "I do think she should come with us. You, too."
"Where are we going, Doctor?" Romana asks.
"Wait here," he instructs her. "I'll come right back."
"Where are you going?" his companion asks the Doctor before he leaves the Zero Room.
He answers from the Console Room. His voice is full of static. "My hunches are coming true."
All alone, the Doctor races toward the theater housing Timothy Surrell's Opium Transistor Transitions. The artistic masterpiece has proved itself dangerous. The Doctor didn't like the look of machine. He wanted to examine the software and find whether bytes were programmed to take darker paths through a conscious computer network.
Denied his inspection, the Time Lord intends he will escalate his intervention. Indeed, he has been forced. He will dismantle the electric chimera. This beast must be slain.
Upon swinging open the frosted glass theater door, the Doctor shouts. "Get out! You are in danger."
The theater is nearly empty. No one sits in the audience and the short queue to see the magic inside a modern piece of art fits completely upon the stage. The gallery attendant, Don, looks toward the open exit where the Doctor stands.
He urgently asks "Is there a fire?"
After a pause and a grimace, the Doctor replies "Yes."
He asks people on the stage "Has anyone kept their eyes open when they've left that trap?"
"Hmm?" he inquires when nobody immediately answers. "Don't. In fact, clear off."
Nobody moves, so the Doctor yells "Fire!"
Everyone scrambles off the stage. People run toward emergency exits and up the aisle. The Doctor greets and passes the thin crowd while they run and he descends toward the stage. He and the gallery attendant meet on the flight of stairs at stage left.
"There is no fire, Don."
"No fire?"
"No, we have to destroy this wicked contraption."
Don stutters. "What? This machine is priceless. It's a masterpiece."
"Then I imagine it is insured," the Doctor replies and pushes past the gallery attendant.
The Time Lord surmounts the stage where the Opium Transistor Transitions stands alone against his wrath. He produces a sledge hammer from a coat pocket. Noticing also he is scrutinized by the attendant, the Doctor tells him "I have very deep pockets."
All the electronic components of the artwork are then smashed. Chips and other digital bits fly everywhere.
"Oh, you should disconnect the power," the Doctor tells Don when a fire does ignite upon a broken motherboard. The gallery attendant stands mute and watches the destruction.
The Doctor stops hammering a moment and asks the attendant "Don, were there other children here today? I didn't see any other child."
Don question his own answer. "No?"
"Don, this is important."
"No," he avows.
"And everyone followed your instructions? They closed their eyes when they exited the machine?"
The gallery attendant does not reply this time. The man squints and thinks. Sweat beads everywhere on his face and the neck of his shirt grows soaked. After a moment in which the Doctor steps uncomfortably close and stares directly into his face, Don makes a decision.
"I'm calling the police."
Little Clara then calls from the front exit. "Doctor?"
"Wha-"
"Sorry, Doctor," Romana tells the Time Lord when she enters the theater behind the girl. "She got away."
The curved and blank video centerpiece breaks into static. Everyone in the theater is drawn to witness the change. The Doctor shouts at Don while licks of fire creep over the electronic parts. "I told you to unplug the equipment."
"Do you know what you have there, Doctor?" warns a shadow in the static.
Don can't help himself and he lets slip the words "My God."
Simultaneous, the Doctor speaks to the two-dimensional figure. The Time Lord announces "An innocent little girl."
Also that moment, little Clara's mother appears behind Romana. All three girls stay in the doorway at the back of the theater. Don goes nowhere. The gallery attendant stands with his arms limp. He's seen the women and the little girl and stays to watch the animated screen.
The Doctor tells the face "I know who you are - Yog-Sothoth, the Spheres of the Qliphoth."
"The Great Intelligence," the face specifies.
"Where have been?" asks the Doctor. "We haven't so much had a conversation is four hundred, five hundred years."
"I've always been here. I am everywhere."
"Well, where there is power."
After the statement, the static-filled monitor blanks into flat black. Don has unplugged the Great Intelligence. "Good show, Donald," praises the Doctor.
"The Don," answers the gallery attendant.
"You're one of us, that's what counts," the Doctor tells the man and claps him on the back.
Romana disappoints the Doctor. "We're not done with that."
"Oh, I know. Clara is safe, that's good for now. She and her mother can come with us to Helsinki."
"Finland?"
"Yes, I've got an idea for a trap. We'll set the snare in the operating system. Linus will help us."
The plan perplexes the Time Lady. "Linus Torvalds? Doesn't he live near here?"
"Not in nineteen ninety-six.," he answers. "We must lay this trap before the nether god hurt our poor Clara. We will not waste bait."
"Bait?" asks the girl's mother.
Romana assures her. "It's already happened."
The Doctor says "She'll be fine, she is. Come along, everyone. Let's not waste time."
Ms. de Anza says "But," then she goes with the Doctor and Romana. She brings her daughter. The Don stays on stage alone and slaps out flames with his gray suit jacket.
"Thank you," the Doctor tells the man when the Time Lord pokes his head back into the theater. Don waves him away.
Episode 3
"Nether god?" Clara's mother asks the Doctor. The woman and her small daughter accompany the Time Lord and his companion, Romanadvoratrelundar. Everyone calls the Time Lady Romana. Clara and her mother are thankful for the nickname. These four travel in the TARDIS back in time seventeen years.
Holding a pressed button on the TARDIS console in the Console Room, the Doctor speaks very quietly. "We never talk about them. You should never, too."
Once he releases the control, the Time Lord smiles and he straightens his back. He says with a stretch "Don't worry, you and Clara won't remember a thing. None of this will have ever happened."
"What?"
Romana explains "We're taking a preventive measure. Clara and the Great Intelligence will never meet in 2013. Right now, it is still there."
"But then we won't meet you and Romana."
"Perhaps you will, yours is such a small world. But it won't be at Mr. Surrell's Opium Transistor Transitions."
The mother, Juani de Anza, misses and doesn't see what the Doctor does but unannounced, the TARDIS grinds its muffled gears the same when the time machine dematerialized. The funny sound makes Clara giggle.
"Ha," the Doctor guffaws. "Here we are, nineteen ninety-six."
The TARDIS doors come open. Outside, snow covers the streets of a nighttime coastal city. Windows of most facing five-story flat houses hold out burning candles. Their light display pine wreaths and ornaments of tinsel. Somewhere, some deaf idler waits in a car and blares a muffled English version of Lucky Love by Ace of Base.
Forewarned to an extent, Juani de Anza tells the Doctor "It's Christmas in Helsinki."
"Catch up."
"It's Christmas."
He admits "My timing may be off a little."
The Doctor leads the way outdoors. "I expect that makes Clara happy. Christmas is known in Finland as the day the children are almost perfect. The quality is inherent."
He leaves footprints in the fresh snow and tells the evening sky "I love Christmas."
Joining the spirit, Clara shouts and submits from inside the time machine "Me too!"
The little girl and her mother follow the Time Lord. Romana comes after all three. Walking outside the TARDIS, Juani reminisces. "I remember this song."
"It's new, now," Romana reminds her.
The Doctor takes his entourage up the steps of a stone and brick flat house. He opens the door and walks straight inside. Already shivering, Clara and her mother come into the heated building right behind him. After Romana enters, the Time Lady shuts the entrance.
"Hello, Linus. It's the Doctor," announces the Time Lord. "I have a favor to ask."
"Doctor," Linus Torvalds says when he appears and investigates a disturbance. The young man appears a little plump but his sight may be distorted by the sweater he wears. The characterization of a festive penguin sits on the front of the garment. The cartoon wears a red stocking cap with a fuzzy white ball.
"Mom," Clara says, jumps and points.
Linus tells the little girl "That's Tux. He's our mascot."
The Doctor answers for her "I know."
"Is she with you?" Linus asks him.
"I like her, don't you?"
"And this is her mother?"
Linus glances at Juani and says "Hello."
The Doctor claims "The girl is under a Doctor's supervision."
The Time Lord then changes the subject back to animals. "Penguin? I would love to travel with a penguin. Although, K-9 would get jealous."
Miffed because he's been surprised, Linus tells the Time Lord "I liked your opera coat better, and your other face."
"I hope we can still be friends." The Doctor grins wide.
"Sure, yes," Linus grudgingly agrees. He says "It's only a Gnome versus KDE thing. Anyway, last time I saw you, you said you needed code to take into the past."
"I did? I'm sure it was very important. It was probably nuclear. Can imagine that?"
Linus imagines other things. The man gazes at Romana and says "Hello, I know we haven't met."
The Doctor warns him "You are a married man..."
Before the Doctor is done talking, Romana introduces herself to the host. She then asks him "Where is Tove?"
Linus remembers himself. "Oh, she's showing off Patricia."
"Congratulations," wishes the Doctor. "I hope she grows up as pretty as Clara. I knew there was a newborn girl."
"There are no surprises for you," the host says sarcastically.
"A few and I need your help so I might catch them."
"What is it?"
The Doctor teases him. "I'll never tell."
Romana interrupts the conversation. "Doctor, Clara and her mother might be bored."
Dutiful, Linus volunteers. "I have hot cocoa in the kitchen pantry."
Juani jumps. "I can make hot cocoa."
"I'll take you," Romana says.
The Doctor tells her "Thank you. Alone together, Linus and I can plot and take over the world."
The ladies leave the front room. Before she vanishes into foyer, he tells Clara "We're not going to do that." He then winks his left eye.
Confidential, Mr. Torvalds asks the Doctor "What do you need?"
The Time Lord is honest the best he's able. "I need you to put a special non-blocking character into the standard output of your operating system. Just this once, it will take care of itself."
Linus acts confused. "What? That doesn't make sense."
"I know, it baffles the mind. That is my intent."
"All right," Linus tells him them walks into an adjacent study. "My computer is in here. I just forked the code..."
The Doctor advises "As long as it's merged back into the main trunk."
"Yes, for you. What does it do?"
The Doctor tells him "It helps the OS guard, by default, against the threat of an alien intelligence."
"I could use more detail."
"And you're not getting it. Where is your adventure, man?"
Shoulder-to-shoulder in the Helsinki study of Linus Torvalds, the man and the Doctor boot up a new box. The work together and tamper with code. The programmer complains. "You could have uploaded a patch to the Linux repository."
"I need you to do this," claims the Doctor. "I need you to be intimately familiar with this change. When Clara grows up, she'll learn this too. I can't be everywhere at once."
"You fool me. You're worst than somebody I don't know."
The Doctor is reminded of an important thing. "While we're talking about it, someone from America will come and say he is the NSA. Tell him no."
"Okay," Linus states and he stops typing across his computer's keyboard. "I've committed the changes. I suppose we should start a build."
"Yes," answers the Doctor. "Pipes, Linus. Remember to clean those pipes."
The second window in the room, the one behind these technological nerds, smashes inward. The Doctor and Linus suddenly freeze. Mr. Torvalds is completely immobilized whereas the Doctor forces himself. He moves his eyes and mouth. An invisible presence joins this hack fest.
"Doctor," a familiar voice names the Time Lord. It sounds exactly as the one in Cupertino California in the far away year 2013.
The Time Lord answers. "You are not getting into the world, you Eater of Souls. This will not be your threshold."
"But I already have a pseudopod in the door. See what I can do so soon."
Partially able to break some mysterious, cold paralysis, Linus panics and only his lips move. "Where is that voice coming from? I don't have speakers for this box."
"Everywhere, I presume," the Time Lord tells him.
The Doctor then speaks to the presence "Yog-Soth..."
And the video monitor goes dead. The computer Linus and the Doctor worked upon loses power. So does the nether god. The hold over the Doctor and Linus is released all at once. Torvalds slumps in his chair and the voice evaporates into frigid air.
Beneath the man's nose, little Clara holds an unplugged power cord. The girl waves the prongs so the The Doctor sees what she's done. He gushes. "Thank you, thank you again, Clara. Your timing is impeccable."
While Linus yet recovers, the Doctor speculates. "This branch is where the Great Intelligence found a gateway. I'm taking the box with me."
Romana and Clara's mother appear. The Doctor makes a request. "Romana, can you please throw a blanket on Linus?"
Once she finds a blanket, she does as she's been asked. Meanwhile, the Doctor speaks to a conscious Mr. Torvalds. "How about making those changes before you branch your code? I'm sure that will shake this infection."
"Good idea, I will," Linus manages and says. He then asks "What about your special character?"
The Doctor tells him. "I'll send you an email. I'll wrap it into a TAR file. Thank you, Linus."
Linus answers "Well, it is my code."
"That's very possessive of you – you're a good man."
The Doctor pays him another compliment before he takes his companions and leaves. "You have the best uptime I know."
The Time Lord then breaks bad news. "We must be leaving. I have these ladies I need to take home."
Linus Torvalds waves him farewell. He does give one piece of advice before the Doctor leaves his home. "Next time, phone ahead. You must stop just dropping in."
Through the snow and inside the TARDIS once again, the Doctor tells his two human companions "Let's take you back to your time."
"Please," Juani begs the Time Lord. "One more trip."
The Doctor grins and wishes "Merry Christmas, Clara."
When the time machine begins to wheeze he also says "And you, Juani, Clara's mom. Thank you."
He tells Romana in flight "The problem with human beings this age and onward is everyone watches too much television. People should go outside and exercise, read a good book."
"I say, listen to a book on tape and go for a hike. It's good for you. It's good for your body and mind, especially your mind. Who can know what gets into ones head looking at a monitor all day."
- END -