BREAKING THE HABIT
Steven stood by the console, his hands held firmly behind his back in an attempt to contain his frustration. It had been a while since Steven had joined Vicki and the old man, who was showing every increasing signs of losing his marbles, and he was finding that even the simplest tasks were now often serious challenges.
"Doctor, can I help you with that?" he suddenly blurted out, having reached the end of his patience.
"What's that?" said the Doctor, startled. "Oh it's you, Steven. No, I can manage. Now if I can just clear this blockage."
"Blockage, what blockage?" Steven asked.
The Doctor glared at him as though he were a simpleton. "The fluid links, of course. Now, stop fussing and let me get on."
This worried Steven. The fluid links had been checked only the day before, and they were fine. What was the Doctor playing at? He seemed to be finding fault with everything these days. In fact, he seemed to be spending every waking hour fiddling with something. Even if the Doctor was 350 years old, as he often claimed, such prolonged activity couldn't be healthy. "Look, Doctor," he said, as tactfully as possible. "Let me do that. You could probably do with a break."
"Now young man, don't fuss. You're as bad as Susan."
"Susan?" queried Steven.
"Yes, yes, Susan. My grand-daughter." the Doctor answered.
"Oh... your granddaughter," Steven made a mental note to ask Vicki later. "Come on Doc, let me help, you know 'many hands make light work.'"
"Yes, and another stupid saying, 'too many cooks spoil the broth' would be appropriate here, humph! Now be gone and let me finish this. I know what I'm doing," he said rather tetchily, brushing Stephen out of his way.
Suddenly the TARDIS was rocked by a massive explosion and in the fury of light and sound Stephen lost consciousness. When he awoke, Steven found himself sprawled out on the ground next to a still unconscious Doctor.
"Lookie here, looks like we found some," said a strangely melodic voice.
"Oh yes, I wonder which one is the female?" said another, more high pitched voice.
Puzzled and still dazed from the explosion, Steven began to make sense of his surroundings. He and the Doctor were on the bank of what looked like a silver river below an indigo sky and surrounded by scarlet grass. Two large figures were standing over them and examining them as an Angler would examine a fish that had jumped out of the water. One figure was clearly male and the other female, both seemed vaguely humanoid but larger and strangely out of proportion.
And each of them had a massive wooden staff in their hands, which appeared to pulsate as the two figures spoke. Steven felt himself prodded. "Hey, watch it!"
The two humanoids jumped back in surprise. "It spoke," said the first one.
"I've never heard one do that before," said the other. "Must be a reflex action of some sort."
Steven pulled himself to his feet. "I'll give you another reflex action if you're not careful," he warned them. "Now back off!"
They did so while he quickly examined the Doctor, who was still unconscious. He must have been more affected by the explosion, Steven decided. As he looked around the immediate area, he realised that only he and the Doctor were here. So where on Earth was Vicki?
"Steven, where are you?" Vicki had slept late and had only now woken up. She was surprised to find herself alone in the TARDIS. "Steven? Doctor?" She would have expected one of them to leave a message if they were going out to explore, but there was no such message to be found.
Vicki began to jump up and down. "At last!" she shouted. "Got rid of those two fuddy-duddies. Now I can have the TARDIS to myself."
"Err, no!" said a mischievous voice.
Vicki turned and found herself confronted by someone she thought she had seen the last of, back in Saxon England. "How did you escape?" was all she could think of saying.
"Ah! That would be telling!" replied the Monk before her.
"What have you done to the Doctor and Steven?"
"That time ram can be a dodgy business but it seemed to work pretty well this time," said the Monk, rubbing his chin as he spoke. "However, you're an unexpected bonus I wasn't expecting. I thought the whole crew would be in the control room."
"Answer me, where are they?" Vicki was on the verge of panic.
"Oh they're fine, probably," said the Monk. "The place where they landed up is perfectly habitable, as long as they don't get eaten first."
"D'ya think they'll do, Flatchet?" said the male humanoid that was standing over the Doctor and Steven.
"Oh I think so, Bunt," said the female.
"Are those your names?" asked Steven. "Flatchet and Bunt?"
"I do wish it would shut up," said Flatchet. "All that talking's going to ruin the meat. And I'm not too sure about the older one - might be a bit tough to chew."
Steven began to get an uncomfortable feeling. "Now, just a minute..."
A movement next to Steven halted this conversation as the Doctor began to regain consciousness. "Dear me, what happened?" He looked up at the two humanoids. "What's this? Visitors in my TARDIS?"
"I think we're the visitors, Doctor," Steven told him. "And we might be on someone's menu if we're not careful."
The Doctor rose to his feet, glaring at the humanoids. "Really? And suppose we don't want to be eaten, hmm?"
Flatchet blinked in surprise. "But it's what we do."
"You ought to feel honoured," said Bunt. "It's not everyone who gets lucky like you two."
Steven had the feeling he was missing something. "How do you mean, lucky?"
"Well, 'cause you were an offering," Bunt replied. "From up there."
The Doctor was starting to lose his patience. "Come, Come! What do you mean, 'from up there'?"
"You know," said Bunt, looking up in wonder and indicating with his staff, "Up there! The Great One!"
"You silly Bunt!" snapped Flatchet. "I've told you before not to believe in that clap trap!"
Bunt's forehead, already very wrinkly, furrowed in despair.
"You know the Great One sits on a lime green toadstool at the top of Mount Ooplah. I've really had enough of this 'up there' heresy. The Monk will set the Inquisition on you," finished Flatchet with a flurry of female indignation.
"Oh no," cried Bunt. "Please don't tell the Monk about me?"
"The Monk?" said the Doctor and Steven in unison.
"Yes, me," said a familiar voice. "Hello, Doctor - and young Steven too. Well, well. What a happy reunion this is."
"I might have known." The Doctor turned to the Monk. "I thought I'd put you well out of the way back in 1066."
The Monk smiled. "Oh, nothing I couldn't fix, Doctor, though I must admit you had me worried for a while there. Not that I'm one to bear a grudge, of course."
"No, of course not," the Doctor agreed.
Flatchet and Bunt were watching this exchange with mounting curiosity. The old man clearly knew the Monk, and they were speaking as if they were old friends.
Steven was also following this conversation, but with a different perspective. Looking at the Doctor, it seemed as though his verbal badinage with the Monk was restoring the Doctor's former good humour, his lapses of memory forgotten. There was just one thing worrying him. "Excuse me for butting in, but aren't we forgetting something." The two men turned in surprise. "Just where is Vicki?"
"Thank you for raising the subject, my boy," the Doctor noted, turning back to the Monk. "Well, speak up. What have you done with the child?"
"Oh, she's safe enough in your TARDIS," the Monk assured them both. "She's my assurance that you'll do as I say."
"If you've…" Stephen started to threaten.
"Shush, shush my boy! Let me handle this," urged the Doctor.
"Sound advice for a young hot-head. Especially as you are not fully aware of the circumstances." The Monk grinned with a hint of menace.
"What is the meaning of this? Haven't you meddled enough? What are you to these people and what have you done with Vicki?"
"My, my! So many questions! And how dare you accuse me of meddling! I don't go round disabling and supposedly making it impossible to repair another Time Lords' TARDIS, oh no!" The Monk was clearly trying to restrain his temper. "But no matter. We will let that pass for now. As for your young friend, well, she has turned out to be very useful. Unusually so. However, she is still my trump card, so beware! Do not irritate me."
"Not irritate you? Why should I change the habit of a lifetime. Irritating people is what I do best," said the Doctor with some pride.
The Monk's jaw stiffened in obvious frustration. "Listen, unless you take my threats seriously I'll..."
"You'll do what exactly, hmm?" interrupted the Doctor. "Why should I pay any attention to your endless hot air, heh? You're obviously from an inferior Chapter and House. It's beneath me to even talk to you."
The provocative nature of the Doctor's behaviour was worrying Steven. "Doctor, what are you doing?" he whispered, tugging on his sleeve.
"Shush my boy, I know exactly what I'm doing," whispered the Doctor out of the corner of his mouth.
"Oh, I can smell the Prydonian arrogance in you," shouted the Monk, whose cheeks were now beetroot coloured.
"And by your incompetence you are obviously a Patrexian, they are famous for their failures." The Doctor turned his back on the Monk.
The Monk was now literally hopping mad. "Incompetent, am I? Don't forget, I have young Vicki in my power. And it was me who brought you here when I time-rammed your TARDIS."
"You brought them here?" It was Bunt who spoke. "But... but they were delivered to us, by the Great One."
The Monk realised his error. "What? Well, yes... no, I mean that I delivered them to you."
"So, all this is down to you?" Steven turned on the Monk. "A clumsy trick to fool these poor souls."
"You should be ashamed," the Doctor scolded. "This falls even below your inadequate standards."
"I told you, Bunt," Flatchet declared. "I told you, but you wouldn't listen. There is no Great One. It's all a myth."
The Monk rallied against their insults. "A myth, is it? Then look." He pointed up to a high cliff, where a makeshift throne jutted out from the rock face, carved out from the rock. "See her there. Your benefactor, the Great One, looks down on you."
Flatchet and Bunt bowed down in reverence, with Flatchet begging eternal forgiveness. Meanwhile the Doctor and Steven stared in shock and surprise. Seated on the throne, a glittering crown on her head, was Vicki.
"What is she doing up there? She'll fall if she's not careful," said a stunned Stephen. "Vicki!" he shouted up at her, but her reaction was to glare down at them and thrust her arm down towards them. This would have seemed rather pointless if it hadn't been for the flash of light that hit the small group of young trees behind them, bursting into flames.
"Vicki!" Stephen shouted up at her, waving his arms.
"All right, all right!" the Doctor almost snarled at the Monk. "Is that the best you can do? Such pyrotechnics are only going to impress primitives such as these," indicating Bunt and Flatchet who were now whimpering, quivering messes, their faces buried under their cloaks.
"Ah! Perhaps I was foolish to think you wouldn't realise my little trick. Still, it will help keep these two and the others in their rightful place."
"But, Doctor! Vicki?" Stephen asked anxiously.
"Don't worry my boy, just one of this fool's little tricks. That up there is a hologram and the explosion was already set up in those trees. He set it off with something he has hidden beneath his habit." the Doctor said patting him on the shoulder in re-assurance. He turned back to the Monk. "So, what next? What do you propose?"
"Well, that's not the only trick under my habit!"
"I really don't care about your dirty habit or what is under it." The Doctor was suddenly horrified by what he saw as the Monk lifted his habit above his waist.
"Look at the size of that thing, Doctor!" said Steven.
"Yes Steven, it is a big one," stuttered the Doctor.
"I bet you've never seen one of these before eh, Doctor?" said the Monk.
"Quite the contrary, I've seen a great many of them. The great mauler of the Planet Vespus had one almost identical," replied the Doctor, trying to hide his surprise and fear.
The Monk had an expression of grim triumph on his face. "See, Blunt and Flatchet, see how they cower at the merest glimpse of my Astral Predictor." The two humanoids stared, uncomprehending, at the construction produced from the Monk's habit. He chuckled. "Not that I expect them to understand, but I know that you do, eh Doctor?"
The machine comprised of a monitor screen with cables and wires trailing from the screen down to its base. "You see, Doctor, while the hologram of young Vicki keeps them occupied, you and I can get on with more important matters."
What is he talking about, Doctor?" asked Steven. "And what is this Astral Predictor?"
"Go on, Doctor," the Monk goaded. "Tell him."
The Doctor bristled at the Monk's impudence, before addressing his friend. "Put simply, Steven, this device predicts the paths of comets and meteorites. I have one of these in my own TARDIS, but the Monk has seen fit to produce a portable version."
"What he's failed to mention," said the Monk, "is that one such meteorite is due in this system in a matter of hours. Quite a large one in fact. It should make quite a spectacle when it hits."
Steven realised what the Monk was getting at. "Here? Doctor, you've got to do something."
"Oh, I fully intend to," the Doctor told him. "But I cannot do it alone. I shall need the Monk's help, and he knows it. That is why you engineered our arrival on this planet, correct?"
"Doctor, whatever you may think of me, the last thing I want on my conscience is the death of a developing world like this one. So yes, we must work together to prevent a catastrophe."
Steven was impressed by the Monk's sincerity, but not fully convinced. "So, what's the catch? You're hardly doing this out of the goodness of your heart."
"Very perceptive, my boy." The Doctor stared at the Monk. "Yes, he wants something in return, don't you? Come on, spit it out. We haven't got all day."
"Well, I would like my dimension stabiliser back for a start. What I've rigged is only temporary and a bit rickety." But clearly, the Monk had something else in mind. "You see Doctor, I've made a stable little home for myself here. I have a planet of enslaved minions," he pointed at Bunt and Flatchet, "and a world from which to stage my operations. I'd so hate to see it damaged."
"Surely you're not going to let him get away with enslaving a whole planet, Doctor?" pleaded Steven.
"The priority at the moment is saving the people of this poor planet, we can worry about all that later," snapped the Doctor.
"Why worry? It's traditional for a rouge Time Lord to take a over some small planet for himself as a refuge. I hear the Rani has her eye on Miasimia Goria. And I'm told the Doctor claimed…"
"That's enough of this nonsense," interrupted the Doctor, clearly flustered.
"What's that?" exclaimed the Monk. "Doesn't little Steven here know your little secret, Doctor?"
Steven looked from one to the other. "Doctor, what's he talking about?"
"It was a long time ago, in my younger days." The Doctor clearly didn't enjoy being reminded of this. "For a time, I presided over a planet much like this one. You could say I was its ruler." Steven listened on, stunned, as the Doctor continued. "It was the impetuousness of youth, you must understand that. And I thought I knew best - it wasn't to be so. Once I realised that I was making things worse instead of better, I left the planet in peace, never to return. Perhaps I will never truly be free of that stigma in my life, but I shall never be so reckless again."
Steven didn't know what to say. The Doctor had never before spoken of his earlier life, and now it seems he had as many guilty secrets as any other person. "Doctor, we all make mistakes," he said. "The question is whether we learn from them or not. I'd say you've more than made up for your past."
The Doctor was clearly touched by his friend's compassion. "Thank you for understanding, my boy." He looked condescendingly at the Monk. "On the other hand, I doubt whether this fellow would be capable of learning from his mistakes, hmm?"
"Don't preach your high morals at me, Doctor," said the Monk. "I made my choices a long time ago."
The Doctor nodded. "Yes, and I've been clearing up after you ever since. Now, shall we get on?"
Vicki struggled against her invisible bonds, but it was no use. The Monk had called it a stasis chair, and it held Vicki firm. The headpiece she wore covered her eyes, the holographic display unit showing her the surface of the planet. She felt as though she was high above the ground, but Vicki knew that in reality she was still inside the Doctor's TARDIS.
She still couldn't make head nor tail of how the Monk had gained access to the TARDIS. He said something about his TARDIS having merged with theirs during a Time Ram, but it didn't make sense to her.
"I think I may be of assistance," said a deep melodious voice, startling Vicki.
"Who - who is that?" she stuttered, clearly frightened.
"Be not afraid," said the tall figure in the elaborate purple gown and headdress. As he spoke, he waved his arm over Vicki and whatever had been holding her to the chair released its ties and the headpiece retracted. "There, that's better, I am sure."
Vicki, not quite sure at who or what was before her, her eyes still adjusting, verbally stumbled some more. "What - sorry, who are you? How…?" was all she could say, still somewhat concerned at this stranger.
"I am… a friend. My name is Borusa. A Time Lord. We have been observing the events taking place here."
"A Time Lord? But…" interrupted Vicki.
"That is correct. You should know of us already, surely not. Do you not travel with the one who calls himself the Doctor?"
"The… Doctor?" Again, Vicki was having difficulty following this.
"Ah yes, the Doctor! He has always been of interest to us. But no matter for now, as I was saying, we have been observing the events here and despite our reluctance at… interfering, I think is the word the Doctor would use, hmmmm, but on this occasion, I'm sure he will be pleased of our intervention, however much he would openly refuse to admit it."
"But, what about the…?"
"Yes! That damned meddling Monk! That is why I have been sent. He has continued to vex us with his selfish disregard for others. Up to now, we have allowed the Doctor to set matters right, shall we say. But alas, on this occasion, he has disappointed us so far and it was deemed necessary for my presence here. Come, my dear." he said helping her off the chair where she had been imprisoned, "let us go and assist your friends."
"But, I thought the Doctor was on the run?" said Vicki.
"Ah, yes. Well, officially he is. But as long as he doesn't make it impossible for us to ignore him we can pretend we don't know what he's up to. The moment he oversteps the mark and starts involving us directly in his little adventures then we will not be able to keep up the pretence."
The Monk continued his banter with the Doctor and Steven as he led them to where he had parked the two merged TARDISes. But silence overcame both him and the Doctor when they arrived at a familiar looking Police Box as outside it were two figures waiting for them. One was the Doctor's little friend Vicki and the other was a face equally familiar to both the Doctor and the Monk. "Oh my goodness you have been busy, haven't you Mortimus?"
The Monk went white at the use of his real name by Borusa.
Steven turned to ask the Doctor what was going on but was surprised that all he could see was the back of the Doctor as he ran away as fast as his elderly legs could carry him, before ducking behind the furthest rock. At least Vicki was all right, Steven was glad to see, as he gave her a friendly hug. "Who's your friend?" he asked her.
She shrugged. "A friend of the Doctor's, apparently," she told him.
"Don't trust him," the Doctor called out. "He's an interfering busybody."
The Monk nodded. "You tell them, Doctor," he said, finding his voice. "He's a thoroughly bad lot. I blame the parents."
Borusa smiled. "The same could be said of you, Mortimus," he replied. "Now Doctor, do come out from behind that rock, and return the Monk's dimensional stabilizer."
"I shall do no such thing," the Doctor shouted. "The very idea!"
Steven looked from Borusa to the partially hidden Doctor. "I think you ought to do as he says, Doctor."
"Please, Doctor," Vicki joined in. "I don't know why you don't trust Borusa, but I do."
The Doctor stood up from behind the rock. "Then you're a very bad judge of character, my dear."
Borusa coughed politely. "Doctor, even allowing for our differences, there is the small matter of an approaching meteorite to attend to."
The Doctor was stunned into silence. After a moment, he stepped gingerly out from his hiding place, and slowly approached the group. "Are you suggesting an alliance, Borusa?" He could hardly believe he was asking the question.
"Temporarily," he replied guardedly. "Until the approaching crisis has been dealt with."
The Doctor shook his head. "Oh, very well, if I must." He then looked properly at the two merged TARDISes, his face turning a deep shade of purple as he turned to the Monk. "And get that monstrosity out of my TARDIS this instant!"
"Allow me," said Borusa, and with a wave of his arm, the air around the blue Police Box grew thick, then shimmered, accompanied by the sound of something being wrenched apart and the formation of another object, at first taking up the same position as the Police Box, then disappearing and reforming to one side. There beside the blue Police Box was a medieval carved stone alter, somewhat out of place in its current surroundings.
"Ha! I see you are having problems with your chameleon circuit as well!" said the Doctor. "That will give you something to while away the hours," then turning to Borusa, "So, the High Council have given you their power of transfer. I trust it is only temporary, for a young whippersnapper like you. What is the High Council thinking of?"
"Well, the High Council were not thinking of anything really. I'm acting on behalf of an entirely different Agency," said Borusa with a self-satisfied smirk.
The Monk began to back away. "You work for the CIA?" he stammered.
"Among other things. They have shown a particular interest in the activities of the Doctor here." Borusa was smiling like a Cheshire Cat as he spoke. "His meddlesome nature could prove most useful and he is therefore someone that they wish to avoid coming to the attention of the High Council itself."
"Useful?" the Doctor barked. "I'm not some lapdog to be called for."
"Didn't I say Borusa was a bad sort?" the Monk appealed to Steven and Vicki. "I'm no saint, but you can't trust the Celestial Intervention Agency."
Steven shook his head. "Look, I may not understand half of what you're talking about, but aren't you two supposed to be working together?" They looked at him blankly. "The meteorite, remember?"
"The young man is correct," Borusa agreed. "As I believe the saying goes, time is pressing." Although he was clearly younger than either the Doctor or the Monk, Borusa seemed to command an authority that the two men had no choice but to bow to.
The Doctor turned to the Monk. "I suppose if we were to link the directional systems of our TARDISes..."
"Yes, it might work," the Monk nodded. "And if we can reverse the trajectory of the muton flow..."
"It's agreed then." The two of them hurried into their respective TARDISes, which then dematerialised.
Vicki turned to Borusa. "Aren't you worried about the Monk just leaving the Doctor to it? There's nothing to stop him disappearing off to heaven knows where."
"True," Borusa conceded. "But the Monk has a code of honour which he will adhere to in this instance - and if he did consider such an action, he would have me to answer to."
It was only a few moments later that the two time and space machines landed back in the same spot they had vacated, with the Doctor and the Monk stepping out, huge grins on their faces. "We did it," the Doctor beamed. "This planet is safe." He turned to the Monk. "Although I couldn't have done it without your help."
"Oh, it was nothing," the Monk chuckled. "Just like old times, really. Now, how about my dimensional stabiliser?"
"You will find that it has already been replaced," said Borusa.
"In that case, it only remains for you to leave this planet and allow its inhabitants to manage without you," said the Doctor sternly, to the Monk.
The Monk turned back to his TARDIS and waved goodbye to his new friends.
"And where exactly do you think you are going?" said Borusa.
"I'm leaving this planet to its people," said the Monk unconvincingly and with a faltering smile.
"Then how do you explain this?" said Borusa as he put his hand up the Monk's Habit and pulled out a mini-television set.
The Monk's eyes widened in surprise. "Well, bless my soul. How did that get there?"
The Doctor wasn't convinced at his supposed innocence. "You just can't leave well alone, can you?"
"What's all the fuss?" Vicki asked. "It's only a television - or is it a scanner?" she guessed.
"Very clever, my dear," the Doctor complimented her. "Yes, it is a scanner, much like the one in the TARDIS. The difference is that the Monk would have used this to spy on the people of this world."
The Monk protested at this. "It was only meant to be a parting gift. A harmless piece of technology."
"Nothing's harmless where you're concerned," said Steven.
"Well said, my boy," the Doctor beamed. "No, I imagine this scanner would have been left in a prominent place, allowing the Monk to continue his rule over this world from the safety of his TARDIS."
"I get it," Steven realised. "The Monk's face would appear on this screen, and the people would think it was another miracle."
Borusa shook his head. "You really are an extremely naughty renegade."
"So what are we going to do with him, heh?" asked the Doctor.
"Well, I think a spot of exile will probably do him the world of good. The Chancery Guard will have probably started sensing ripples in the vortex by now and will be arriving fairly quickly," said Borusa. "You Doctor, should get away from her as quickly as you can."
"What about me?" asked the Monk.
"Well, someone has to face the music," said Borusa.
"I'll tell them everything, about you, the Doctor and the CIA," threatened the Monk.
"Oh, will you now?" said Borusa as he pulled out his stasis gun. The Monk fell back as Borusa fired, collapsing on the ground. He met the Doctor's indignant stare. "He is only stunned, and by the time he recovers his exile will have been implemented."
"All very neat and tidy," the Doctor noted, with some disapproval. "And what is to stop me from informing the High Council of your actions, hmm?"
Borusa smiled. "Come now, Doctor. You are hardly in a position to make idle threats. You have your freedom. Enjoy it while you can."
Before Steven or Vicki could ask any questions, the Doctor directed them into the TARDIS. He paused in the doorway, looking down at the fallen Monk before turning to Borusa. "I will never be a part of the CIA's machinations. Never!"
Borusa watched as the TARDIS faded away to nothing. "We shall see, Doctor. We shall see." He touched the Time Ring on his wrist, and winked out of existence, along with the Monk.
Flatchet and Bunt crept out from their hiding place, having watched the whole series of events. They hadn't understood what had just taken place, but realised things had changed. They looked up to Mount Ooplah - the throne set into the cliff face was now empty. The Monk had also vanished, along with two potential sacrifices. Now the two humanoids stood alone, uncertain.
Flatchet took Bunt's hand in his. "Fancy some soup?"