Chapter 2: Across the Universe
Paul's eyes were wide as he looked around the massive interior. He stared in wonder at the lit-up spheres built into the walls around him, then let his eyes wander to the staircases, wondering where they led. The whole strange place was bathed in a golden light, creating shadows behind the oddly shaped structures that inhabited the place. The noise continued as the Doctor punched more buttons and pulled levers seemingly at random around the central control panel. In the centre of said panel, in a glass case, a transparent blue object was moving up and down in time with the sound.
"I'm tripping, aren't I?" Paul asked, holding on desperately to the only thought in which he wasn't stark-raving mad.
The Doctor glanced over. "Well, you look pretty beat up, but I don't think you look too drugged at this point. And I've had experience with telling differences between drugged and not! Why, just the other day I was over on- No, hold on... It wouldn't be days, it'd be years. Centuries, really... But that's beside the point! It's been a while since I had a human on board! Quite exciting, you know. I do hope you enjoy this place; it's one of my favourites, Felspoon. Ohhh, it's great there. Mountains that sway with the breeze. Brilliant!"
Giving the odd man a concerned glance, Paul stayed silent, figuring it better to do so in the hopes that the Doctor, who Paul suspected to be certifiably mad, would leave him out of whatever plans he had on planets that Paul doubted were real.
"McCartney! Do me a favour, would you? Open up that door and breathe, just breathe. It'll do you good, I'll bet. Little bit of Felspoon fresh air always helps a man out!"
"Uhh..." Paul said as he looked around, as if confirming he was the McCartney being ordered around. Seeing no one else, he did what most humans do when asked a request by the Doctor; he slowly and painfully got to his feet and pushed the door, beige on the inside, open.
With the first crack of the door, the air itself changed. It began to feel more electric, as if touching anything at all would produce a massive spark, one worthy of being called mini lightning. The small bit of the planet that could be seen was dusk dim, and bits of spindly light could be seen, as if in some sort of pattern. It was quiet, except for a faint crackling noise that was heard, but not noticed because it was so faint.
"Whoa," Paul breathed. His curiosity won over any thoughts of doing the smart thing, and he pulled the door open wider and gazed at the landscape for only a split second. Then, he took a step out of the doorway, drawn in by what appeared to be building outlines made completely of light. They were skyscrapers, that was evident, but there was no solid matter they in their structure.
"Paul!" the Doctor hollered, panic in his voice. He was suddenly clenching Paul's arm, dragging him back inside before his foot could touch the strange world's surface. Unfortunately, the quickness of the action unbalanced both of them, and they fell backward on the hard floor. The Doctor jumped right back up and slammed shut the door, then turned back around to face Paul, who was lying on the floor, angry and in more pain than ever.
"Why the ruddy hell did you do that?!" he growled, rolling over and sitting up.
Brushing off his trench coat, the Doctor put on an apologetic face. "Sorry, Paul, but if you would stepped down onto that surface, well, you would have a bit crispy. Seems this old TARDIS didn't quite get the planet right..."
"It'd be great if you could talk sense," Paul muttered.
"Ah, yes, you're new to this, right. You see, I was trying to fly us to Felspoon, but it seems something went wrong. We ended up here. Quite obviously on Seirhve," the Doctor explained, drawing out the last word, "This one's not known for its mountains. Never had any mountains, just a big flat sphere of rolled up, uncontainable static electricity. Luckily for the civilians, that's all they need to live and thrive!"
"Hold up, you mean there are people here? How come they get to step on the ground and I have to stay here in this trippy little big box?"
The Doctor pointed at Paul happily, "I like that! Trippy little big box. Sounds exciting!"
"The people?" Paul pressed.
"Oh, I don't think they're what you think of as people. Not in their natural form. Joulectros, they call themselves. Most of the universe does, too, actually. Funny how a name can travel farther and faster than anything else. For example, my own name tends to be known farther than even I've travelled, and I've certainly travelled a long way."
"Your name? What is your name, anyway?"
"Well, I already told you that. I'm the Doctor, remember? Now, back to Joulectros. A single Joulectro can harness the energy of a lightning bolt and use it to build. That's what they do with static, they build. Build and build and build. Unfortunately, using the energy to create everything makes the place a bit hostile for life forms as you know them. Zaps carbon-based forms with one touch of the ground. Luckily, that's not from personal experience."
Paul laughed wryly. "I would hope not; then I'd be talking to a dead man, wouldn't I?"
The Doctor gave him a look, one that sent chills down Paul's spine. It was a sad look, but laced with mysteries beyond anything Paul could possibly imagine. It lasted for an uncomfortably long time, then the Doctor seemed to be snapped out of whatever trance of memories he was in and jumped up towards the centre console.
"Well, enough of that, let's get off this planet. No point staying any longer. Any requests from the famous Paul McCartney? Aleph-777? Flogstrune? Kantra, Linktos, Uffe-"
"Or how about the studio where I promised I'd meet my mates? Abbey Road, heard of it?"
Laughing, the Doctor replied, "Heard of it? The whole universe has heard of it! Are you saying that's the one place, in the whole of time and space, in the whole of forever, that's the only place you want to go?"
"I did promise John I'd be there... And he'll never let me live it down if I'm late."
The Doctor shrugged and began his work around the control panel, pushing buttons seemingly at random, sometimes using hands, sometimes his feet, even his face was pushing a button at one point. "Oi, you want to lend a hand? Hold down this lever, would you?"
Getting to his feet, Paul did as he was told, felling the ground beneath him shake and shudder as they were hurled through time and space in a wild, yet somewhat controlled fashion.
"Brilliant, you're a natural born time traveller! Well, almost," the Doctor said, tipping his head to the side quickly as he said "well", then bringing it back to normal position, "I mean, for a human. Of course, there are some who are raised around time travel, but not you, no. You're just learning and doing a, well, a decent job. Well done."
The shuddering and accompanying noise stopped.
"We here, then?" Paul asked, a bit nervously, "At the right place this time?"
"Should be. Or relatively close. Might even be on time, too. Open the door and find out."
"Alright," he agreed, half-expecting to find the door leading out to a river of lava, or show him something even less ordinary. With those expectations, he was quite surprised to find himself in an empty room near the studio he was to meet the others in.
"So, I've done a little better now, have I?" the Doctor asked with a cocky grin, leaning up against the console.
"Looks fab so far, but you've probably made me late."
The tall man shrugged. "May have been a bit off. May have been a bit on, though, too. Shall we see? I've always wanted to see the inside of your studio! And here I am, standing with the one and only Paul McCartney right next to the Beatles' studio!"
"Right..." Paul said, not sure what to make of the man's broad grin and excitement. He wondered briefly how his own studio could compare to the excitement of travelling planet to planet. But he led the way out of the strange, nonsensical box, and down the hall to find the other Beatles, hoping they were there. Following him was the Doctor, pausing to lock his TARDIS, then jogging to catch up and walk with Paul.
"Oh, good, George," Paul said, "Am I late?"
"Hold on," the Doctor said, "George? But I thought George Harrison was... Ohhhh! Not Harrison, daft old me, George Martin, am I right? It's an honour!" He shook the bewildered manager's hand excitedly.
"Erm... yes, hello," Martin said, looking at Paul in confusion. Paul shook his head as if to say he didn't know why the strange man was so strange. "Well, it's nice to meet you, too. And, uh, Paul, you're quite late; you should know that! The lads have been waiting for three hours now. Three! Admittedly, Ringo's only been waiting two, and John two and a half, but poor George was here on time! Three hours, Paul. You'd better get in there quick."
"Oh, mind if I come along? Just to watch, mind you," the Doctor asked, "I'll be quiet, of course, don't want to interrupt anything."
George Martin shrugged. "I s'pose if you're a friend of Paul's, that's alright. Just hurry, Paul, will you? I've heard enough complaints as it is from them!"
Paul side-glanced at the Doctor, knowing he could never be quiet. But he led the way anyway, gesturing for the Doctor to follow. They kept a pace of a light jog until they reached the door. At the door, Paul gave a warning look to the Doctor, one that wasted and not caught by the tall, thin man.
"Well, here we go, then," Paul said, placing a hand on the studio door.