Hi Everyone! I'm terribly sorry about the posting delay. I really, really tried to have it ready yesterday, but it turned out I didn't get as much time as I'd hoped yesterday morning and yesterday evening I had to go to an award ceremony and dinner that lasted longer than expected. So, I had to finish this chapter this afternoon. Sorry! But it's ready now and I hope you like it and that the Liddypool speak isn't too incomprehensible. Thanks again for your patience with my slowness, it's enormously appreciated. Thank you!

Chapter Fourteen

"Excuse me. Yes, hello, yes, pardon me. Will you let me pass! That's right, you heard me, I said MOVE! SHIFT! Budge up against the wall the lot of you, I'm coming through!"

The buzzing tunnel quieted down to a concerned murmur as the various groups and errand runners clotting up the narrow thoroughfare edged closer to the curving, chalky walls. It was uncharacteristic of Frenk Fingletoad to let his frustrations show so vocally. Normally, their leader was a quiet, thoughtful sort, so wrapped up in his plans and worries he barely noticed where he was walking. Mary Duffield poked her head out from the telephone office, her round young face pinched and pale. Like many of the others, she knew exactly what was eating at old Frenk. In fact, she suspected she knew even better because that same concern was eating at her too.

"Izzit Partly, sir?" she asked nervously, scurrying up behind him as he stalked through the egg-shaped doorway leading to control headquarters. Frenk growled, brusquely waving the communications officer, Leftenant Sydnees, away so he could take his place on his uncomfortable green chair. Sydnees jumped up with a polite nod, but shared a subtle look with Mary before turning to continue his work at a different console. Oblivious, Frenk reached over the bulky, slanted control panel, snatched up the bulky headset and slid it over his tousled, graying hair.

"Young fool," Frenk grunted. "Still hasn't called in. Worse still, he's stopped answering our hails. We'll have to risk a search party if this keeps up." Flicking the 'hail' switch, he snapped into the square microphone: "Partly! Private Partly Dave do you read me? Come in, Partly! Damn it!"

Switching off again, he slammed his palm against the mud brown console and pushed his chair back with a horrible squeal of metal on tile. Mary winced, but knew better than to speak.

"I knew he was too young for this," Frenk shook his head, angrier at himself than Partly. "Why didn't I listen to my gut? After what happened with his brother…"

"Sir, yew canned flame yershelf fur tat," Mary said quietly. "End I'm shore Partly's just fined. He's probely lust trick off the thyme against, or mebbee—"

"I know, I know, Mary. I know," Frenk sighed. "All I can say is, that boy had better be all right. If he's gone and got himself shot to death, I swear I'll kill him."

If Frenk was trying to loosen the tension in the room, it didn't work. Mary hunched her shoulders and rubbed her arms, as if she were cold.

"Yes, well," she muttered, low enough so the old man couldn't hear. "Knot iff eye git too him fist."

"Knot mush feather now, fellers. Eats jus town thees wave."

The motley crew of time travelers gathered around Partly, looking to where the young soldier was pointing. Not far from their position, a narrow, rocky ravine led to a slim, dark opening in the chalky cliffside. The steep white cliffs were only about a fifteen minute walk from the Foothills, but the landscape was already markedly different from the strange desert-like environment they'd left. Here, the ground was springy with moss and tender grasses, and the sound and smell of the sea wafted in the air, mingling with the mineral tang of warm sunlight on chalky soil.

"Wear it the very edge off Pepperland rite new," Partly told them. "Iff oui war two climb tea cliffs, wee colt sea the line wear the Sea of Monsters meats the Sea of Holes" (1).

The travelers shared a somewhat puzzled glance.

"What do you mean by a 'line'?" Harry frowned in confusion. "How can you see a line where two seas meet? It's just water on water, isn't it?"

"How can you have a Sea of Holes?" Rose questioned.

"What kind of monsters?" Sarah asked, looking around a bit warily.

Partly looked just as confused as his prisoners. "The lyon," he repeated. "Yew no, wear tea see mitts the ski. Sea of Monsters," he pointed down past the ravine where the sparkle of sun on water could just be glimpsed through the trees, then he turned his finger to the sky. "Sea of Holes."

There was a brief pause while the group stared, uncomprehending, at the clear sky. Then, Ten's jaw dropped. "Oh!" he exclaimed. "You mean the horizon! The line where the sea meets the sky."

"Thee horizontal, yes," Partly nodded.

Four, Sarah, and Harry looked enlightened, but Rose was still confused.

"So, the sky is the Sea of Holes, then?" she asked.

"That's rite."

She made a face. "OK, Sea of Monsters, I can understand that," she said. "Fish, squid, sea serpents, fine. But why do you call the sky the Sea of Holes?"

"Wull…" Partly shrugged a little helplessly. "I dunk new. Lock up."

"Lock up?" Rose was beginning to get frustrated. "Lock what? What do you mean?!"

The two Doctors shared an amused smirk.

"Rose," Ten tapped his friend's shoulder and pointed to the sky. "Look up."

"Oh my," Sarah Jane said. "Will you look at that."

"What," Rose frowned, following her gaze. "Oh!"

"I say," Harry agreed.

The previously unblemished blue sky was now dotted with what, at first glance, appeared to be black clouds slowly blowing past. But these weren't the cottony mounds of frozen condensation that floated over the Earth. These were actual holes in the sky; inexplicable circular gaps through which Rose could see the stars.

"Impossible," Four breathed, his mind struggling to work out the puzzling sight. Ten raised a superior eyebrow.

"Oh, I don't know," he said, crossing his arms. "We're looking at it, aren't we? It's pretty difficult to watch an impossible phenomenon."

"I agree." Four's voice was deep and serious. "Partly," he said, "Let's go. The sooner we speak with your superiors, the better."

"Welt, wear actshelly just outslide me base," Partly told them. "Weight hare end aisle announce us two three guards."

Rose shook her head as they watched the young soldier hop over a fallen log and skid his way down the side of the ravine. "Not a word," she frowned. "You don't think everyone here talks like that, do you?"

Harry gave a sympathetic shrug, but his eyes were fixed on Partly, who was now standing still just outside the cave entrance. Without warning, a male voice shouted:

"She came in through the bathroom window!"

"Protected by a silver spoon!" Partly responded, raising his arms (2). There was a brief pause, then two tall soldiers were suddenly pacing toward him. To the group huddled above the ravine, it seemed as though they had melted straight out of the background. Their uniforms were the same dusty, moldy color as Partly's, but their bearing and expressions were far more military.

"Private Dave," the taller of the two snapped. "Wear haft ewe bean! Yew wear subpost to reapport in neely halb an our igloo! Thee old man ist furryroast!"

Partly winced a little, but kept his perfect attention stance. "Aye maid a find, out bye the Foothills," he said.

"End why then did yew flail two reapport eat in?" the second soldier demanded.

"Well, eye thot—"

"Ewe didn't think!" the taller soldier snapped. "Effin yewd thot, ewe wood haft called in on thyme! Shew mi yore radio, boy!"

Partly scrabbled in his satchel for the blocky device. The taller soldier snatched it from his hand, then glared down at it with a fierce scowl.

"Eat's off!" he exclaimed, throwing it straight into Partly's chest. Partly released a small 'oof,' but managed to catch the radio before it fell to the ground.

"Know wonder thee old man coolant tintacked yew," the second soldier glared. "He's bean going mad whirring aboot you, you fool boy!"

"Watt whirr ewe doing out thier, eh?" the tall soldier demanded. "Tanking a hyke? Admirroring the screenery?"

"No, no, notting lake tat!" Partly protested. "Eat was thee strangers, ewe sea. Eye found them mere a balder, ent I—"

"Enough!" the tall soldier snapped. "Year conning wit us, young man. Wear gong two take yew inn personably too cee thee old man. Heel no how too deal whist the likes off yew."

The two soldiers each grabbed one of Partly's shoulders and began pushing him toward the cave. Partly dug his heels into the chalky dirt, struggling to shake them off.

"No, weight! Weight!" he exclaimed. "Aye bought thee priceynobs whitney!"

"Watt?" the taller soldier frowned.

"Their hare!" Partly said. "The strangers eye tolled yew aboot! Eye brot them whitney, end new there weighting fur me up their!"

He pointed to the trees. Gesturing for the others to follow, Four stepped out into the light, offering the startled soldiers a little wave.

"Hello!" he called down with a smile. "Incredible weather we're having, wouldn't you say? Such lovely clouds."

"Hoo ist that?" the taller soldier frowned.

"Und why dost hee tock sew stringy?" the other added.

"Don't mind him," Ten said. "It's just his way. We've come to see the old man. Is he available to meet with us?"

Leaving Partly with a glare, the two soldiers took a moment to converse among themselves. Finally, they looked up.

"Ewe can comb down," the taller man said, making a show of resting his rifle on his shoulder. "Bit no flingy bustness."

"Oh no, wouldn't dream of it," Harry assured them, struggling to suppress a snigger. "Would we, Sarah?"

"Oh no, furthest thing from our minds," she nodded, still trying to puzzle out the man's meaning.

"Comb alog, then," the soldiers frowned. "Iff eye no thee old man, he's probely steel inn the comm centre tying too contacked yew." He glared at Partly, who looked rather cowed. Taking the young soldier by the arm, he led the way into the cave. The shorter soldier lagged behind to take up the rear, his rifle aimed and ready.

"Here," Four said, slipping the stem of a blue, daisy-like flower into the gun's thin barrel as he passed. "That looks much better."

The soldier stared.

"What?" the Time Lord smirked. "I'm only trying to keep in the spirit of things."

"Juiced move," the soldier scowled, and followed him into the cave. "Safe the jokes fur someone hoo cares."

The commotion in the tunnels at Partly's appearance was overwhelming. The two guards stood by with matching scowls while the young man was hugged in succession by practically every girl from the telephone office, followed by Mary and, finally, Frenk himself.

"Popular chap, what?" Harry commented as they waited for the excitement to die down enough for the crowd to realize that Partly hadn't exactly entered the base alone.

"It's like he's their lost prince or something," Rose frowned. "What is this place, anyway? Some kind of secret underground base?"

"That is precisely what it is, and we'd like for it to remain a secret."

Rose turned her head to see a formidable gray haired man making his way toward them through the gradually dispersing crowd. Ten held out his hand.

"Hello," he said. "I'm the Doctor and these are my friends Rose Tyler, Sarah Jane Smith, Harry Sullivan and—" He glanced at his taller counterpart.

"You can call me the Doctor too," Four said, also reaching out to shake the man's hand. "Nice place you have here. Reminds me of those tunnels they have running through the cliffs beneath Dover Castle (3). Why, you've even got the graffiti." He turned to face the lettering carved into the smooth white wall. "Chalk walls do give themselves wonderfully to this kind of thing, don't they? The Dover tunnels sport inscriptions dating all the way back to Napoleon—have you ever heard of Napoleon? French chap, bit of a megalomaniac, had a brief stint in the early nineteenth century trying to take over the world? Ah, but all that's beside the point. What does this say, now…" He leaned in closer. The carefully carved words were surprisingly worn and slightly discolored, as if they were often touched or rubbed. "Why, it looks like song lyrics, am I right?"

The large man frowned. "Hardly," he said. "These are excerpts from our most sacred texts. We inscribed them into the chalk walls to provide us with hope and good fortune."

"Ah. Well then, I do apologize for my presumptions," Four said, looking anything but apologetic. The man gave him a strangely inscrutable look.

"There is more in your words than their meaning," he said. "You are a formidable fisherman, Doctor Too, to have brought in a catch so quickly."

Four looked startled, then miffed, then pleased. "Let me guess," he said. "You're the 'old man' to whom everyone's been referring."

"Frenk Fingletoad," he said, acknowledging them all with his polite nod. Turning to the guards he said, "You two can resume your posts. I'll deal with Partly later."

"Yessir," the guards chorused, turning on their heels with a smart salute. Frenk sighed and glanced through the doorway to the telephone office, where Partly and Mary were somehow managing to carry on a giggly chat over the mumble of voices and buzzing phones.

"Teenagers," he commented, more to himself than the travelers. "Sometimes I think the Great Philosopher sent them to test how far we can be pushed before we break."

Ten glanced over to Rose with a small smile. "I can sympathize," he said. "In my experience, I've found they're often so eager to find acceptance as adults that they tend to ask for more responsibility than they can handle."

Rose's eyes turned sharp. "Oi! Jus' what are you implyin', Doctor?"

"Just go with it," he hummed under his breath. Out loud, he continued, "Rose here, she's only nineteen and always begging to take on more responsibilities. She assured me she could handle the supply inventory, yet today we weren't twenty minutes out when she realized she'd forgotten to pack our rations."

"I'll get you for this," Rose muttered between her teeth as she gave Frenk a theatrically sheepish smile. "I'm not sure how I forgot, it jus' sort of happened," she said, using the same tone she'd often used on her mother when she'd forgotten to unload the dishwasher or do the laundry.

Frenk nodded. "That's just how it is with young Partly. Well, if you lot are hungry, it would be impolite of me not to offer you tea. We don't have much, mind, but—"

"The Doctor and I are fine for now," Four assured him. "It's the younger ones who've suffered most."

"Then I'll have Mary tend to them," the gray-haired man said. "You two can come with me to my office."

"Please—" Sarah Jane spoke up, looking pointedly at Four. "If you don't mind, I'd rather like to stick with you."

"No, you'd better go with Mary, Sarah," Four told her, and winked. Sarah scowled slightly, but nodded.

"Understood," she said reluctantly.

"Good girl," Four smiled.

"Right, then," Frenk nodded. "I'll get you three squared away with Mary and then you and I," he looked straight at the Doctors, "are going to have a long chat."

Frenk's office was a large, square hollow several levels below the base entrance. It was lit with dull, electric bulbs that cast more shadows than light and gave the place an eerie, ghostly feel.

"Well here we are," the grizzled man said. "Only the best for us rebels, right?"

"Yes, it's very, um, cozy," Four commented, glancing around at the few shelves, tables, and chairs that furnished the room. Frenk gave him a wry look.

"So," he continued, slipping behind his desk. "What brings you lot to our neck of the woods, eh? Doing a bit of spying are you? Did old Lord Hearble send you round to find out what makes us tick? Or was it Alec, perhaps?"

"Oh, we're not spies," Four grinned. "We're more sort of travelers."

"Travelers," Frenk nodded gamely, his hands folded beneath his chin. "Not spies."

Ten raised his chin. "I couldn't help noticing, Mr. Fingletoad, that your way of speaking is far less…demotic…than your friend Partly's, for example."

"You're very observant, Doctor," Frenk smiled. "I could say the same for you and your friends. And it's Frenk."

"Frenk," Ten nodded. "My apologies."

"Not necessary," Frenk said. "I'm not offended. But we're not here to talk about me, are we? We're here to find out more about you. It's clear to me that none of you are native to Pepperland. If you were, you would never have questioned that inscription by the door. So, if you're not spies and you're not defectors come to join our ranks, what exactly were you doing in the Foothills?"

Ten and Four shared a significant look, then pulled out a couple of chairs and scooted up close to Frenk's desk.

"Who carved those Foothills," Ten asked. Frenk frowned.

"No one did," he said.

"And the Headlands," Four said. "They're a natural formation too?"

"As natural as the trees themselves. What's all this about?"

"And the sky," Ten added. "Have you always been able to see the stars during the day?"

"Of course! What kind of questions are these?"

"Believe it or not, Frenk," Four said with grim sincerity, "your answers to these questions may provide the clue we need to save this planet, and the universe, from total annihilation."

"Ah, right. I understand now," Frenk nodded. "You're mad, the pair of you."

"Are we?" Ten countered. "I'm going to risk the guess that you've been offworld—for several decades if your speech patterns are any indication. That would imply you've seen other planets, known other cultures. Considering all that, can you honestly tell me there's anything natural about your world?"

Frenk straightened. "I don't know what you mean."

Noting the man was growing defensive, Four started on a different track. "What do you call this world?" he asked offhandedly.

"What? Liddypool Prime," Frenk frowned. "How could you not know that?"

"Well, we're not from around here, you see. Our charts list this planet under a different name. Logopolis. Ever heard of it?"

Frenk's eyes slid to the side. "No," he scowled.

"Hm," Four frowned. "And what of your history? Were your distant ancestors by any chance from a little blue world called Earth?"

"No, they were from Sirius Major. Our ancestors came to this planet fleeing religious persecution. Not that it's done us much good," he muttered darkly. "We've been fighting among ourselves for the past thirty years, ever since the King and his aide…" He clenched his jaw and looked away. "Well, what's past is past. But, like our ancestors, the beliefs of our people still run too deep to allow us to settle or compromise. We're a stubborn race. Yet, for all our differences, we all believe in the Great Philosopher's teachings. How well we follow them is another matter."

The two Doctors shared a significant look. "The Great Philosopher?" Ten questioned.

"What we call the authors of our most sacred book," Frenk explained. "There were actually four of them: Pullmycart Knee, The Hairy Son, The Ringed Star and, of course, the great Jon Len-on."

The Time Lords' eyes widened enormously. It was all they could do not to shout out loud. This had to be it! The link they'd been searching for linking the transdimensional creatures to the Beatles. The pair straightened in their chairs, a surge of triumph swelling in their hearts as Frenk went on.

"Under the guidance of the Man on the Flaming Pie, they created a great body of work," he said (4). "The Beatles, it's called. It's basically a collection of stories and poems designed to guide us along the path of life, but lately..." He sighed and slumped slightly in his chair, shooting his guests a scrutinizing look.

"I don't know what it is, but for all your strangeness, there's something…sincere…about you two," he frowned. "Still, I can tell there's much you're not telling me. You came here, to this planet, for a reason, and it wasn't to find me."

"You're a very shrewd man, Frenk," Four smiled slightly. "I like that."

"And you're good at avoiding answers," Frenk shot back. Then he sighed with a shrug. "Oh, well, if we're going to get into this, I may as well tell you everything. Call me crazy for trusting a pair of aliens, but, hey, what can it hurt, eh?"

"If anything, the more you tell us the more likely it is we'll be able to help you," Ten assured him, struggling not to look too eager. "We weren't kidding when we told you the universe was at stake. The information you give us now may mean the difference between our continued existence, and the end of reality as we know it."

To Be Continued…

References:

1) The Sea of Monsters and the Sea of Holes were inspired by the Beatles' animated movie Yellow Submarine.

2) "She Came in Through the Bathroom Window" by Paul McCartney, from the album Abbey Road released 26 September, 1969.

3) For a whole bunch of info on the Secret Wartime Tunnels of Dover Castle, look here (without the spaces) : http // www. english - heritage . org . uk / upload / pdf / secret (underscore) tunnels (underscore) dover . pdf

4) In 1961, John Lennon told a reporter that the name "Beatles" came in a vision in which a man on a flaming pie told them "From this day on you are Beatles with an A." For the full story on how the Beatles got their name, look here (without the spaces) : http // abbeyrd . best . vwh . net / named . htm