The door to the Inventing Room swung open, and a plethora of wonderful aromas washed over Wonka like a cheerful welcome. How he loved this room! It almost seemed alive with its whirring, whimsical machinery and the various sounds they made - squeaking, buzzing, and humming - and the moving conveyor belts and the swirling barrels, and...Wonka froze in mid thought. There was something in this room that did not belong. A tall, lanky man was standing near the Everlasting Gobstopper machine, waving a small device of some kind. He was wearing a long coat, slacks, and strange shoes that were laced like Oxfords but appeared to be made from rubber and canvas. His back was to Wonka, but he spun around when Wonka approached. He forced a smile, his face bright with surprise.
"Good morning there, so sorry to pop in here unannounced, but I was called here because there was an issue with your, uh, pipes."
Wonka gave him a long look, noting the man's combed hair, his tie, and the spark of playful mischief in his eyes.
"I see, Wonka said carefully. "And you would be?"
"John Smith," the man said, flashing a card from his wallet. "Plumbing Inspector for the area. I was alerted to a leak by one of your neighbors and thought I ought to have a look around."
Wonka smiled wryly. "Well that would be helpful if there really was a leak, and if you really were an inspector. That paper you just showed me was blank."
The man sputtered in disbelief. "But this is psychic paper! You shouldn't be able to see through it, unless you're a genius, or..." He whipped out a grey and silver device that looked like a large pen. It whirred and glowed with a blue light, and the man looked at it intently like he was reading something.
"Chroniton residue. An indication of interdimensional travel." He looked at Wonka as if seeing him for the first time. "Who are you?"
"William Wonka," Wonka replied, tipping his top hat. "World-renowned chocolatier. And since you are aware of interdimensional travel, I can only assume you are one such traveler yourself."
The man sighed, knowing he was caught. "You're right. So I'm going to be honest with you, because there's not much time." He waved the silver device around, and it gave a few high-pitched chirps.
"John Smith is not my real name, but friends call me 'the Doctor'."
"The Doctor," Wonka echoed, unsure of how to feel about this fellow traveler who didn't have a proper name, and seemed to be looking for something. It should have bothered him, especially after having his secret recipes stolen by spies, but he was more concerned with who this man was. Could he be another alternate version of Wonka? Was this how Willy Wonka felt when William appeared in his dimension?
"Uh...Doctor," he said as the Doctor rummaged through the contents of a desk drawer, "Could you tell me why you are here, and where you came from?"
The Doctor stared at a singing lollipop that he had unearthed from the drawer, impressed and a little confused by a singing sweet.
"Well," he said, setting the lollipop aside, "I was looking for an alien, to be honest. Extraterrestrial. That means a being from outer space."
"I know what that means," Wonka said patiently. "I've even met some."
The Doctor seemed surprised. he licked his finger and held it up like he was testing the air. "This is the 1970's, right? Human contact with alien life forms shouldn't take place for another few decades."
"Perhaps I'm not your average human," Wonka said coolly. "I've gone into space numerous times, as far as the moon. More often than not, I encounter alien life. But never anything pleasant." He frowned. "What sort of alien were you looking for, Doctor?"
The Doctor glanced at the device in his hand, which was his sonic screwdriver. While it was indeed handy for building shelves, he had modified it for countless other purposes such as scanning for energy signatures.
"There is something in your factory that is hungry for energy." he said grimly. "It was probably drawn here because there seems to be an unusually high concentration of energetic chronitons in the area."
"So it likes to eat energy," Wonka said thoughtfully. "If it gets full, will it go away?"
The Doctor shook his head. "This creature is never full. It must continuously absorb energy or it will die."
"Well, if it takes energy, then it should go to a power plant," Wonka said. "No harm to us, right?"
"Unfortunately not," the Doctor grunted. "This creature specifically needs time energy. And in order to generate it, it touches a living being and sends it back in time. Then the timeline that the being vacated becomes pure time energy, which is then absorbed." The Doctor took on a pondering tone. "It's a fascinating species, I must admit - and the kindest of killers. Basically it kills you by sending you to the past where you live until you die." He sniffed. "But it isn't pleasant either way. There was this one time when -"
"Doctor," Wonka said, interrupting him, "What does the alien look like?"
The Doctor froze, then fumbled for his sonic. "Why do you ask?"
"Because either my workers are playing a joke on me, or that statue I saw in the hall a minute ago is not what I assumed it to be."
The Doctor turned to look where Wonka was looking. There, in the open doorway of the inventing room, was the angel statue that Wonka had seen earlier.
"Weeping Angel," the Doctor said lowly. "So called because it usually keeps its hands over its eyes."
"How did it move?" Wonka wondered aloud. "It looks like it's made of stone."
"Only when you look at it," the Doctor said. "It is quantum-locked. But if you look away...if you even blink...it changes into its mobile form and can move incredibly fast."
"So we must keep looking at it to keep it from moving," Wonka said in understanding. "But how do you plan on getting rid of it?
The Doctor paused to think. "Well, that always was the problem. You can only stare at it for so long before you have to close your eyes and it escapes. The last time I encountered these creatures, I tricked them into staring at each other so that they stayed frozen forever...stone staring at stone. There only seems to be one this time, but one Weeping Angel is deadly enough."
"And I assume you can't kill a stone," Wonka said grimly.
"Yup," the Doctor said.
Wonka thought hard as he blinked one eye at a time.
"Is there any chance it could be trapped? Say, in a house of mirrors?"
The Doctor brightened. "That could work! Do you happen to have one?"
"Of course not," Wonka retorted, "though I am giving it serious thought for the future." He paused, staring hard at the Angel. He snapped his fingers and glanced at the Doctor. "I've got an idea. We can lure it someplace where it can be safely locked up. Not a hall of mirrors, but almost as good."
"And how are you going to do that?" The Doctor asked, rolling his eyes. He realized his mistake an instant after - both he and Wonka looked up to see that the Angel was now standing frozen over them, its face twisted into a silent snarl. Wonka was startled, but he maintained his composure as he backed away until his back was pressed against a safe. he proceeded to play a short piece from Rachmaninoff's Piano Concierto No. 2 on a set of piano keys, and the safe clicked open. He reached in and grabbed a satchel, the same one he had taken on his last journey. It contained the time candy and remaining crystals. "Let's go!" he said urgently to the Doctor. He ran quickly toward the back of the room, the Doctor hot on his heels as neither of them dared to look back. Wonka jumped into what looked like a large closet and waved hurriedly for the Doctor to join him. The Doctor dove in, and a glass door slid into place behind him. The Doctor knocked on the door skeptically.
"That's not going to keep it out," he said sinkingly.
"You'd be surprised how strong it is," Wonka said calmly. "We're perfectly safe."
The Doctor shot him a dry look, and it was then that they heard a knocking on the glass. The Angel was there on the outside, fists pressed against the glass.
"He must really want these," Wonka said.
The Doctor finally looked at what Wonka was carrying, and he gasped in surprise. The time crystals were luminous crystal shards that shone with a golden light. There was a warmth to them that was more than mere heat - it was as if looking at them warmed the heart and gave life to the soul.
"Where did you get that?" The Doctor asked, awed by the sight. He hadn't seen such crystals since he had fled from his homeworld, Gallifrey.
"The deepest part of the Earth," Wonka explained, "It's not really molten magma, as the the world's top scientists once thought. In fact, it is a whole other world in itself. You will see. But first, we must be rid of our unpleasant guest." Wonka pressed a button beside him, and a word lit up beside it which read: MINUSLAND. The Doctor suddenly realized there were hundreds of other buttons lining every available space on the ceiling and walls, and that this strange space was made entirely from glass. Then it moved, sinking down until the doorway and Angel disappeared. There was a thump on the ceiling, and Wonka and the Doctor both looked up to see the Angel crouching on the roof of what the Doctor now realized was an elevator.