I awoke to find myself being dragged by the hair through a quarry. A glimpse of female legs and blinding sunlight reflecting off chrome panties told me I had been rescued by my crazy wife.

Noticing a tiny suited figure walking alongside her, I glanced over and decided all was right with the world. Right-ish. Riversong was alive, I was alive, and the girl only had two eyeballs. She cradled the laser cannon in her arms, but seemed to be carrying it okay.

I grabbed at my wife's hands and she let go, smiling at me. "I thought I lost you."

I smiled. "I thought I did too." I stared at the piles of rocks. The quarry seemed to go on for miles in all directions. And me without any shoes.

"You were right about The Black Hole," she sighed.

A hollow victory. "It'd be nice if I wasn't. Are we safe?"

Eve shrugged. "We're out in Sector A65B-33-4, and I blocked the exit with a rock slide. I think we'll be all right. It's not like they can fly or anything."

The thought made me uneasy, but it calmed me to hear the Queen of the Daleks report that that Daleks couldn't fly. If the damned things actually could, we'd be in serious trouble.

Riversong wrinkled her face as she stared at the half naked figure. "You need some clothes."

"I didn't have time to dress." Then my wife smirked. "You should have seen what I had on before I came here!"

Eve must have noticed me staring at her cleavage, because then she cinched her bra up higher, winking at me with her big cyclops eye.

I got up and brushed myself off, pretending to be searching the quarry for...anything survival related. "Was I dead?"

"No. Stunned." She stuck out her arm. "Hand."

I unthinkingly obeyed, wincing as needles stabbed through puncture wounds that were just beginning to heal.

After she'd `vamped' me for a bit, she let go, marching barefoot across the sharp and jagged rocks.

I stumbled after her.

The rocks cut my feet, but what could I do? I had stupidly tried to make myself comfortable in bed, and I had the nerve to chase after my adopted daughter without stopping for boots.

"Where are we going?"

"Where you wanted to go."

"Where I wanted? What about you? Don't you want to see what it's like out there? Don't you want to live in a world free of killer robots? Away from where they stick...(I didn't want to offend her with words like `ugly') creatures in your skull?"

"I want to be where our son is."

I could have fainted. "Our what?"

"Our son. He's back there. With them."

"No!" I moaned. "Please no!"

She dropped to her knees on the painfully sharp rocks and wept.

Out of obligation, I held her close, trying to comfort her, but I had none to give her.

I pictured a young boy about Riversong's age. A companion. A playmate. Maybe, sometime when he got older, something more.

Imagine my relief when she said, "Yes, Robert. While I was on the table, they stole my fertilized eggs."

I started breathing normally again. "So...there's no little John Connor that needs rescuing? There's just an egg, right?"

"Yes," she sniffed. "But it's fertilized. Did you really want to name him John?"

I smacked my head. "Look. I know that life begins at conception and all that, but he doesn't even have body parts yet." That reminded me of another thing that bothered me about the whole thing. "How did you know it's a boy?"

She shrugged, wiping her face. "The same way they know what's in those other test tubes is a Dalek."

"Genetics."

She nodded.

"Look. We can fertilize other eggs. It's not even a fetus yet, is it?"

"No."

"Well then." Technically I was off the hook. I breathed an even heavier sigh of relief.

She clutched my jumpsuit with a terrified expression on her face. "But don't you see? They could use our DNA to create some horrible abomination!"

"Abomination? Really?" I stared. "Coming from you, how bad it can be?" Then, to avoid offense, "I mean, you're still kinda cute. How bad are we talking?"

"I'm not talking about just one! They could make an army of soldiers with that DNA! Thousands of...mutant things, all with our faces, and they could do all sorts of horrible experiments with them!"

"They...wouldn't be as beautiful as you?" I ventured.

Eve frowned. "I...I don't know. I doubt it." She wept on my chest. "What do we do?"

"Relax. They'll have an army of soldiers that can't do math, can't hold a job, and can't get the nerve to ask a girl to the prom." I frowned. "And maybe kill a dinosaur with a pair of scissors."

I plopped down on a boulder. "Even so, they'll be too moody to enjoy their victory."

Eve frowned at me. "What are you trying to say?"

I rolled my eyes. "All I'm saying is, your bad decision might just save the universe. I'd like to see them try to use my DNA!"

"Gee, thanks." At least she wasn't crying.

Eve stood up. "Let's go."

I followed her through the wasteland.

"I'm tired," Riversong moaned. "Here. Take your gun back."

Eve slung it over her shoulder, stomping carelessly over the jagged rocks.

The little girl smiled at me. "That was really brave of you back there."

"Thanks, kid."

"And really stupid."

"That too."

Riversong sighed. "You remind me of Roary."

"Really? How so?"

The girl only shrugged.

"How did he die? Did a Dalek kill him?"

"No, it was...the Weeping Angels."

"What are those?"

She smirked. "Spoilers."

I wasn't sure what was being spoiled. "So, what, they're a bipolar biker gang or something?"

She looked at me like I were stupid. "Be glad you've never met them."

My wife silently set down her gun, motioning us back as she drew a sharp piece of scrap metal out of her bra.

Something like a snake disappeared behind a boulder.

The mutant cavegirl quietly stalked barefooted across the gravel in her shiny underwear like a character in some late night B movie.

In a bound, she leapt across the boulder, and as the snake thing reared up to strike her, Eve let out a feral scream, slamming the knife down in a spray of black blood.

The combatants fell behind the boulder.

The silence that followed worried me.

Fearing the worst, I followed, only to find Eve peeling the skin off the snake thing's carcass.

I don't know what she killed, but it looked like a rattlesnake and a giant centipede had an overgrown baby together. She'd severed its cobra head from the body. "I removed the poison sacs." She peeled more skin back. "We only need a fire and it'll be ready."

I frowned at the rocks surrounding me. "And how, pray tell, do we do that? I don't see any sticks, do you, Riversong?"

The child shook her head.

"I smell petrol fumes. Some of these rocks are semi flammable so you should be able to coat them with the stuff to make coals. I also spotted dry plants growing behind some other boulders."

A short, foot injuring walk on some sharp stones led to a giant pool of black sludge. It didn't smell good, like hot asphalt and burning tires, but I dipped the rocks in it anyway, piling them next to our kill.

I also found the dry plants she mentioned, a sort of tumbleweed with eyes, but its thorns cut me every time I tried to pull one up.

When I told her about it, I expected advice on how to grab them, but instead she just yanked it out of the ground with her bare hands, throwing it on the rock pile. "Here. She handed me the piece of metal and a flinty looking rock. "Start the fire."

I stared. "Who told you I was in Scouts?"

"What?"

I shook my head. "Never mind." Maybe she just assumed me to be a firebuilder because all cavemen knew that stuff.

I knelt by the alien tumbleweed, striking sparks into it until I had tiny glowing embers. The knotted dry plant made ideal tinder, and with a little blowing, it smoked and burned, only growing dim when my woman dropped more tumbleweed things on top of it.

The rocks caught fire, releasing a cloud of black smoke that made me gag, then the semi flammables caught, lighting up like Kingsford briquettes. Horrible smell.

An hour later, were dined on snake-apede jerky.

Not that good. It tasted like doughy undercooked sausage, old brussel sprouts and the flavorless lump of gristle you often find in a block of cheap ham. I ate until full, but only because I was starved and we hadn't any pepperoni supreme pizza snakes laying around.

The Daleks apparently couldn't move without a smooth level surface, so we ate in unmolested silence.

The sun set, and Eve found us a cramped little animal burrow (its deadly owner lay dead on a nearby rock) and the three of us got in, curling up together to keep warm.

For three days, we existed similarly, eating nasty snake-apedes, drinking the ooze from plants, and sleeping in animal burrows (murder on my back). One day, we didn't even go out on account of the acid rain.

On the fourth day, Eve brought me to a giant pointy pillar of rock, calling it a Type 39 TARDIS.

"It's a rock. It looks like something that would be standing in a Utah valley somewhere."

She brushed a side of the rock clean, placed her palm against it, and a square section slid open, revealing a circular panel that looked best suited for interaction with a toilet plunger.

Eve placed her hand on it, turning it around like a combination lock, then jerked her hand back just seconds before two metal panels tried to guillotine slice her wrist into the shape of a toilet plunger handle.

The rock obelisk let out a rumbling moan, throwing small stones and gravel down on us as its surface split open like a shale outcrop on the San Andreas fault line. The crack widened into the shape of a door, and I again looked into a console room.

This one looked like an antique, the fittings all in brass, dim lighting, the controls designed to resemble the old style dials and levers the guy used in that H.G. Wells Time Machine movie I saw on TV awhile back. It had inverted Frisbee things like the other, but the color of old gold, and a layer of thick dust covered everything.

The moment I stepped through the door, I wanted to step back out again.

Two Daleks stood on either side of the console, their armor giving the appearance of battle tanks.

I relaxed when I saw the cobwebs. These things, if alive, weren't the most active robots on the planet. They should have at least exterminated the bugs.

Eve casually strolled in, placing her hands on a pair of circular console panels. They glowed blue, and the big plastic column in the center of the device lit up, glowing and rising up and down.

The lights got brighter, and I heard the grinding of machinery and air conditioner equipment kicking on.

"Dalek 47 report!" Eve barked.

No answer.

"Dalek 48 report!"

I waved a hand in front of one of their eyestalks. "48 REPORTS UNSUCCESSFUL COMBAT WITH ARACHNID," I mocked.

The bulbs on its dome flickered like a child's toy fire truck with a loose wire. I jumped back and shut up.

I led the little girl to the console, lifted her up when I noticed she couldn't see anything.

"You know something about this thing, don't you, kid?"

Riversong frowned. "A little. It looks a little different, but—" She pointed to a crank and a set of dials. "I think that controls the time period." Her finger indicated some switches and levers. "And those are planetary controls..." She flipped a switch, and a section of one of the walls slid open, revealing a monitor displaying the world outside. "And somewhere around here is the—"

"STA-TUS," a mechanical voice groaned at what seemed like a speed of 25 RPM. "RE-PORT. TEM-PORAL FLUX COM-PO-NENT DAM-AGED. PLACED ON STAND-BY TO AWAIT RE-PAIRS."

"HUMANOID UNITS," the other croaked. "IDENTIFY YOURSELF."

"Dalek Queen 3 and prisoners, sent here for repairs. Dalek 47, state mission objective."

"REPAIR TARD-IS AND RE-TURN TO STRA-TE-GIC LO-CA-TION 5455-5477-85289 IN SEC-TOR 5186-15-4562189 TO DE-STROY BE-ING KNOWN AS GEORGE WASH-ING-TON."

The other robot said, "TO WIN THE TIME WAR AND DESTROY ALL TIME LORDS."

"Right!" I said with an uneasy smirk. "Now that we're all on the same page...how do we get this thing to work?"

Eve frowned. "We can't. We don't have a temporal flux component."

Sighing, I set the girl down. "So we need a flux capacitor or it won't go."

"Temporal flux component, but yes."

I slumped on the floor. "Great. We're stuck here. Now what?"

Eve smiled. "Now? Now we go home."

"No!" Riversong shouted, pressing herself against me in a tight little ball. She curled her arm around mine, clutching it tightly as she folded her legs to her chest, squeezing herself between me and the console.

"Honey," my wife said to her. "You don't want to live in this little cave for the rest of your life, do you?"

"It's not a cave, it's a TARDIS."

"I used a metaphor."

"I know. If this is a cave, back there is a tomb. I don't want to go back. At least here I can safely go outside."

"You can go outside all you want at the base." Eve knelt beside her, smiling. "All of Skaro is ours, honey. But if you want to live here, we can live here. This is your home too. We'll just be...camping!"

Riversong relaxed somewhat. "Okay."

I frowned. "We're stranded here, aren't we?"

Eve nodded sadly. "I'm sorry. We don't have TARDIS production facilities at our base."

"Are there others?"

She shook her head. "The Doctor destroyed them all. With Davros and our human leaders overthrown, the surviving units gathered together at Site B26A51E84 and tried to rebuild society from the ashes."

"Who is Davros?"

"A misunderstood genius." She stood up. "The Type 39 is not as impressive as the 40, but it has a kitchen and sleeping quarters. Anyone for lunch?"

Riversong slowly stood up. "Wait. I think we can fix the TARDIS." She pointed to a panel on the side of the console. "Open this, please."

Eve humored her, removing the bolts and panel.

The girl disappeared inside the machinery for several minutes, tossing wires, silver cubes and metal circuit boards all over the floor as she rooted around.

My wife took this opportunity to attempt getting me out of my spacesuit, and I almost let her had I not heard the girl calling to her.

Riversong had found a tool kit somewhere within the compartment. In her hand she clutched the silver socket wrench-like thing she called a sonic screwdriver.

I and Eve stopped kissing to stare at her as Riversong cautiously poked a robot. "Can I take a look inside this one? For parts?"

Eve climbed out of my lap, smiling at her. "Of course you can, honey." She strolled up to the Dalek, placing a hand on its shell.

The machine groaning something with resentment about being used for scrap parts.

"Dalek 47, we require your assistance. We believe we can help accomplish your objective to destroy Washington if we can remove a part from your vehicle. Will you do this for the glory of all Daleks?"

After a minute's delay, it bowed its eyestalk. "YES, MY QUEEN."

"I will hold you," she said to the Dalek, offering her arms.

The eyestalk raised, the machine's dome elevated, and the front of the machine unfolded to reveal a tentacled creature surrounded by tiny pieces of computer equipment, life support devices, and a myriad of miniature controls.

Below this little space pod of sorts lay the heart of the machine, wires, batteries, a motor, and a lot of other machinery I couldn't guess the purpose of.

Eve gently placed her hands in the space pod, and the squishy creature crawled up her arm.

With care, she brought it to her bosom and held it like a newborn baby, gesturing for Riversong to do her examination of the device.

Riversong peered into the inner workings, tugging wires and pulling things out.

The creature clutched to Eve's chest jerked violently in response to Riversong's working, but Eve cooed and petted it, and the thing closed its eye.

The little girl crawled inside the console again.

My wife offered me the creature. "Would you like to pet him?"

Pushing away my squeamishness, I put my hand on the creature, stroking its squid body. About as pleasant as petting an eel. "You think if we had kids, they'd look like that?"

She grinned. "Gee, I hope so!"

I rolled my eyes. All this snuggling up with the Daleks made me want to dump her somewhere and go home, or jump ship at the next available safe...whatever, and leave her with the robots.

Seriously, no good reason to stay with Eve now. Sure, we slept together, and did have the marital scarification, but she didn't even remotely resemble the girl I married. As I watched her cuddle the grotesque thing like a baby, I formulated plans for her abandonment, taking Riversong and going away somewhere safe and normal.

But then I got to feeling guilty about letting the Daleks operate on her brain, burying her dad, and all we went through together, and I kinda felt obligated to stick with her.

Plus that silver underwear really looked good on her.

"I'm going to fix 47's chariot," Eve said, holding the Dalek creature out to me. "Here. Hold him."

I didn't really like the idea of holding a one eyed squid creature to my chest, especially one that probably wanted to rip my face off, but I figured the key to handling any deadly animal was to show no fear, so I picked up the nasty thing, kind of cradling it in my arms while Eve worked on its metal shell.

After about five or ten minutes of us staring at each other in disgust, the creature got bored and fell asleep on me.

Eve gave me this look like I were the greatest father in the world, which really embarrassed and sickened me.

She connected a few wires on the machine and held out her arms. "You can hand him back now."

"What, and wake Junior?" I remarked with sarcasm. I handed the thing back double quick.

"So, what, you can fix those Dalek machines, but you can't fix a TARDIS?"

"Exactly." Eve put the creature back in its little compartment.

The Dalek shell closed and the thing didn't do anything for a long time.

"What did you do to it?"

She shrugged. "The motivator and voice modules were taken to replace components in the TARDIS. I just reconnected the life support systems and enabled other auxiliary operations."

The lights on the robot flashed on and off as if speaking.

"Please tell me you disconnected the firing system."

Eve looked at me like I were crazy. "Then how would we kill George Washington?"

I smacked my face. "George Washington is the founding father of (I wanted to say `our country', but, frankly, it wasn't hers)...America. My country. Now, Eve, I'm very fond of America, and I don't like the idea of someone coming along and vaporizing George before my constitutional rights have been established."

Eve rolled her eyes. "I know who George Washington is, Robert."

"Then do you know who Hitler is? Because if you're going to wipe out one of the founders of a notoriously free country, you're probably going to have a totalitarian state where they execute people for having political opinions."

Eve silently stared at me for a few minutes.

At last she said, "One time Qardug spoke words that brought the curse of evil down upon our village. He was stoned to death. When he died, the curse was lifted."

Understandably disgusted, I cried. "So that's a good thing to you? You think it's some great thing for a person to get shot and killed for just saying words?"

Eve swallowed. "One time Rinarg and Wiungab challenged each other for hunting and water rights. Wiungab said those rights belong to everyone, but Rinarg did not agree. Instead of discussing it rationally, Rinarg poisoned him to death. A cowardly way to solve the problem."

"And what are these Daleks doing, exactly?"

She gave me a nervous sidelong glance. "You don't understand. This is different."

"How so? They're going to vaporize any species that isn't a Dalek, aren't they?"

"Maybe?"

"And you don't think that's wrong."

Eve sighed. "Robert, even in a place of alleged freedom as you describe, people are not free to say everything they want, someone is always out to silence any opinion that disagrees with their strongly held beliefs...or disbeliefs. A Dalek nation has never faced this problem."

Honestly, she had a point. My Facebook friends were not really friends. There were certain high school people, and my uncle, who attacked me whenever I posted what was really on my mind instead of bottling up my emotions like I always do. `You're not acting like yourself,' they said when I shared an actual honest opinion. Still, that's not a valid argument for genocide. "Yeah, because you exterminate anyone opposing you."

"Robert, it's just one man."

"Yeah? Then why do I have the sneaking suspicion that someone else is going to wipe out Jefferson and all the other signers of the constitution?"

"It's fixed," said a voice behind me.

I frowned at the girl. "What do you think, Riversong? They want to kill President Washington. Don't you think that's wrong?"

She nodded. "That's like killing the Queen! You can't do that!"

I smiled. Oh you limey.

"Riversong, dear," Eve said. "Don't you want to live in a world with no racism, no disagreements? Don't you want to eliminate all differences so we can all be the same and live in harmony together?"

Riversong saw right through the attempt. "No."

Eve petted her on the head. "We're all tired. We should sleep on it."

That sounded like the best idea I heard all day, and so I set about exploring the T39 in search of a bed.

Surprisingly, not that much bigger on the inside. A narrow hall led down to a pair of tiny bedrooms, and bathrooms connected to them. A kitchen, a room Eve described as a recharging room for the Daleks' chariots, a storage room and a hydroponics section to provide air. That was it.

The food we found in the freezer tasted flavorless and canned. We had the oatmeal stuff, some spam like canned meat and something that tasted like vegetable matter, presumably supplying lacking vitamins. Guess we'd been lucky that it hadn't spoiled.

When we retired to our beds, Eve tried to get me out of my spacesuit, but again, to my relief, Riversong got scared, so we just squished together the best we could on the narrow mattress.

Riversong wrinkled her nose and said I stank, so I tried out the shower.

Daleks, or whoever it was that owned the thing, did not have regular shampoo, just a hand soap of some sort, and the water pressure sucked, but I made do.

I had just rinsed the soap out of my eyes when a naked body kissed and pressed up against me.

Something like mass of wiggling snakes engulfed my manhood, like a lap dance from an octopus.

I should have been disgusted, but my body had other ideas. I slid to the shower floor, letting Eve do whatever she wanted, obliging with my body whenever it seemed appropriate.

We made a lot of noise under the spray. I can't imagine what the little girl thought about all this. She probably covered her head with a pillow or something.

I got used to Eve's cyclops eye, and found the hair tentacles kind of cute, playing with them as we kissed.

What I couldn't stomach so well: How sticky suction cups suddenly popped out of her tailbone area and raised around the curve of her buttocks, and how, as we neared climax, a long row of small mouths popped open from her neck to crotch, erupting in little tentacles and suckers.

I tried to think of them as tiny aloe vera or cactus. In fact, I said it quite a few times out loud, which made her laugh.

I laughed too, but when we passed the point of no return, it didn't seem so funny.

Her inner thighs lit up like a modem, flickering and staying on the nearer we got to peaking.

As we reached the inevitable, something like teeth clamped around the base of my genitals. I screamed, thinking I'd been castrated, but whatever it was just stayed there.

"Sorry," she giggled.

"It's all right," I groaned.

Sticky green liquid gushed all over my lap. I fell flat on the shower floor.

I had to shower again to get all that stuff off of me, then scrubbed my hands. The suckers on her butt felt like the back of a slug, and the slime resisted water. I had to wash my hands three and four times to get the sticky sludge off of them, and even after all that my hands still felt sticky.

When we dried and got dressed again (I had to convince Eve to put on a jumpsuit), I found Riversong sitting on the bed, staring at an instruction manual. "What's an aloe vera cactus?"

I blushed. "You don't want to know."

Eve grinned. "It helps daddy to think of plants when we're trying to make babies."

Riversong looked as disgusted as I was embarrassed. I changed the subject. "Are you sleepy, hon?"

She nodded.

"C'mon. Sorry about the noise." I crawled into the bed, and Riversong got in with me, my wife sandwiching her from the other side.

The bed hadn't been designed for that. Twice during the night, I rolled off the single person bed, falling on the floor.

Once, when Riversong left for the bathroom, I found my hand resting on those disgusting suction cups, clothes apparently not to my woman's liking.

Later, during what felt like the early hours of dawn, as I reached deepest REM sleep, the whole room shook. That, combined with the disturbing sensation of having the bed to myself, caused my eyes to fly wide open.

I jumped out of bed, threw on the boots I swore I would never go anywhere without, and bolted to the console room.

My worst suspicions had been confirmed.

One of the Daleks was missing, and the front doors of the TARDIS hung wide open, overlooking a room bearing a striking similarity to the Oval Office of the White House.

The place resembled a log cabin, the flag the old kind with thirteen stars. The Presidential Crest was painted on the floor, because old Betsy wouldn't have been able to sow a huge eagle rug for people to step all over like they did later.

The office didn't resemble any of the pictures I'd seen, but then a lot of stuff I'd experienced didn't match up with the history books.

In the center of the room, a charred skeleton in Colonial garb lay slumped over a large wooden desk. Dalek 48 had literally blown off the president's powdered wig.

My wife stood on one side of the desk, clad only in her chrome underwear, radio antennas poking out the sides of her neck. "This is the Dalek Queen: Objective 15-C6146M accomplished!"