Mark Watney sat at his computer desk, in his comfortable home. He leant back on his leather swivel chair, waiting for his computer to load. 'I need to get that fixed' Mark made a mental note.
Despite having a shit-ton, and by shit-ton, I mean a shit-ton of money he got from insurance, NASA, the whole world, his parents, you name it, he still kept his humble home out of anyone's reach. He just liked the smallness of the house, the 1-storey house with a medium backyard where he grew nearly everything except potatoes, and his large lounge-room (in ratio to his house size).
Finally, his personal computer loaded, and started at the home screen. His background was what you would describe as 'art'. At least, that's what Mark thought of it. It was a crude drawing of himself stabbing the planet Mars with a knife. Damn, Mark really hated Mars. The dick.
He clicked to open his browser, and clicked on Google. After 30 years, Google was still a thing. The reason he wanted to go to Google (he rarely used it, he had all of his regular sites on tab by default) because he wanted to find him again. The Doctor. He then moved his mouse to the search bar and typed in it: 'doctor'.
Surprisingly enough, he got a bunch of medical-related links. Mark mentally face-palmed at his stupidity. He rapidly tapped at the back-space button (because for some reason he never liked to hold it down) and then typed, 'doctor blue box'.
This time, however, he found some interesting links. A URL that was as follows: . . Mark found this weird; he had his default search filters to US links only. He clicked on the link nonetheless as his Wi-Fi had universal capability.
The webpage only came up with a completely black screen. It said 'log-in required. Authorized access only'. Well, he wasn't authorized, or at least he didn't think he was. He was about to click the back arrow until he noticed small text at the bottom of the page.
'UNIT official archives, documenting any and every abnormal anomaly known to date.'
Mark got intrigued. This 'Doctor' was definitely an anomaly to him. The only set-back was that he didn't have a log-in. It was only a username and password; it couldn't be that hard, right?
Another only set-back was that he had no idea how to hack a computer program. And he definitely did not have the patience to learn how. So he did the next best thing:
Call Johanssen.
. . .
A few hours later, Beth arrived at Mark's house. She lived in the same town as him, a few miles back. And they also still worked at NASA together, so it would make sense that they lived in the same area near the Headquarters.
"Whattya want me to crack?" Beth asked in her usual half-hearted tone.
"Well, it's just a website."
"Yeah, really narrows it down. What's it called?"
"From what I can gather, UNIT Archives."
"Oh, an archive? I'm interested…"
Mark walked toward his computer, and Johanssen followed. He opened it (quickly this time, it was just in sleep mode) and clicked on the browser. It popped up to the UNIT Archives website.
Johanssen immediately jumped into the seat and started pressing keys on the keyboard with precision and speed. Various windows were showing up on the screen, and they kept popping up in numerous amounts. After about a minute of this, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion and frustration.
"Mark, I've never seen code like this… it's almost like it's un-earthly…"
Mark looked to the ground. He had already tried to explain the blue box and the Doctor to Beth, and Beth was a super-nerd. She'd always take something up the slightest bit alien. But even she didn't believe him. So how could he explain now?
"Why do you wanna hack this site anyway?"
Welp, he'd have to explain now.
"You see, remember when on the Hermes, I told you and the guys about the blue box and the man I saw at the basin on the Schiapparelli Crater?"
"That load of bull crap? Uhuh."
"The funny thing is, I met him again."
"Riiiiight…"
"Seriously, Johanssen, it was the same person! He was wearing the same thing and everything. Fuck, he even explained that he was not from Earth and he WAS on Mars with me! He had his blue box, and it disappeared just like on Mars!"
"Now you're just crazy."
"He said he told me all of that to assure that I wasn't!"
The whole room was silent. Beth sighed, and turned back to the computer screen.
"Look, I don't wanna start a fight. I have some equipment that might be able to have a chance with this code."
. . .
Another couple of hours later, Beth was back at Mark's house, except carrying a large brief-case type box with her.
"This," Beth said, as she heaved open the seemingly heavy box to reveal unexplainable electronic equipment, "is what I call, hardware."
She plugged a cord from the case into the side of Mark's desk top, and a few bulbs on the case started to flash. Almost instantaneously, the screen of Mark's computer started flashing with hundreds, maybe thousands of windows being sorted and siphoned to the case, and back to the hard drive. The windows were moving so fast, that it was probably impossible to read what was on them.
Then, the screen for the UNIT Archive popped up, and digits were being placed at amazing speeds in the Username/Password sections. The screen kept blinking red, each blink signalling the wrong password. This went on for a painful thirty minutes, before finally the screen turned green.
. . .
Across the world, in the UK, specifically Cardiff, London, Britain, there was an alert in a particularly ordinary office building.
"We've got unauthorised access."
"Copy that. Send in the commander."
Red alarms were blaring throughout the building, and a pair of automatic doors opened at one side. The Commander of UNIT strode into the distressed block. She had a very tall and broad body shape, and wore a red beret and a navy-green officer's suit with various pins and badges of honour and bravery pinned onto her chest. She had a permanent scowl stuck onto her face.
"What's it this time? I swear if you say another vault break-in, I'll-" The Commander was cut off by
"No, Ma'am. It's not that. We've got unauthorised access to the Archive. It's not possible for the code to be cracked by mass-manufactured technology. It must either be alien, or very advan-"
"I don't want to hear the details, private, just trace the signal. I need to make a call to the Chief."
. . .
Meanwhile in the US, Watney and Johanssen were leaning in on the screen and scrolling through the Archives. Mark had searched up 'Doctor' in the search bar at the top and he probably got thousands of results. He clicked on a page, and there he was.
"See, that was the guy on Mars and at NASA HQ! I swear, that's him in the blue suit and convers- ew… converse with a suit…"
"Well, let's read the page and find out." Beth replied.
They started reading from the top, and immediately they were engrossed. There were pictures to accompany every paragraph, which included the blue box. The page described the Doctor classified as 'Time Lord', an alien race which watched over the universe but never interfered. It also told of the Doctor being 900 years old.
"He can't be THAT old…" Beth said to herself.
"Look here – it says he can change his body when he survives a deadly experience…"
"This is really interesting… maybe you were telling the truth, Watney…"
They were just about to read on when the shattering of a window broke the silence. Both Watney's and Johanssen's eyes widened, and they turned to the kitchen where the sound emitted. Almost immediately, soldiers dressed in black uniform and red berets started storming Mark's house.
"What the hell's going on here?" Mark shouted over the sound of heavy footsteps and guns being loaded.
"Oh, sorry, don't mind them. I was in the country when I heard of the unauthorised access to the website." The lady's British accent echoed through the room.
"And who are you?" Beth spoke up.
A lady dressed in a smart black suit and high heels with greying blonde hair stepped through the line of men with pointing guns.
"Kate Lethridge-Stewart. Scientific Chief and adviser of UNIT. And if I must say, I am a big fan of yours Mr. Watney, but I'm afraid you'll have to come with us."
