Here's a little one-shot while I search for the motivation and inspiration to write something longer!
"Doctor, I've got a question."
"I might have an answer," the Doctor replied.
"Are there really sand worms?"
From the tone of Bill's voice, the Doctor had expected a question of some weight. Maybe philosophical, religious, astronomical, or ethical. But zoological? He hadn't seen that coming.
"Sand worms?" the Time Lord repeated. "Worms that live in sand?"
"Giant worms that live in sand. On desert planets. They're in so many sci-fi movies and you ever seen anything like that?"
The Doctor thought about it for a minute. He'd walked countless worlds, and seen countless species, but he couldn't think of a single instance where a desert planet hosted giant worms. In his experience, worms of unusual size preferred wet worlds.
"I've seen deserts, and I've seen worms, but never together."
Seeing the disappointed look on Bill's face caused the Time Lord to add, "Which isn't to say they don't exist! I haven't exactly had a reason to look for sand worms. Until now."
Bill brightened immediately.
"I've got a few field guides—probably more than a few—that might have just what we're looking for."
The Doctor forgot all about the assignment he was supposed to be preparing and ushered Bill to the TARDIS. He had all weekend to put together a fun little project for his Monday class, and when you were a Time Lord, you could hold Monday back for as long as you needed.
It was indeed more than a few. Considerably more. There were enough guides to fill a hefty portion of one of the TARDIS's many libraries.
Bill cruised the stacks, examining the material. There was everything from professionally published encyclopedias to unlabeled discs to bits of circuitry. Since she had no handy means to play anything electronic, Bill stuck to books.
"Doctor, how is this organized?" Bill asked.
"Hmm, not by the Dewey Decimal System, or alphabetically, or by color," the Doctor replied.
"So not at all?"
"Doesn't look like it. That's okay, think of it as another exciting part of the worm hunt." The Doctor scanned a shelf in the time it would have taken a human to process a title or two. "We can eliminate most of these, they're for water worlds. And these are ornithological, no help there. Gas planets tend not to have much sand, so none of these, either."
The Doctor came away with a half-dozen books. He brought them over to a table and laid them out. Bill joined him, eager for the chance to see the works of an alien author.
Bill picked up one of the books and read the title. Or tried to. Everything went smoothly until she had to pronounce a planet whose name had no consonants and all its vowels had some sort of umlaut or accent.
"How would you say-" Bill began to ask, only to find the Doctor shaking his head and piling the other five books atop each other.
"I thought we might have had something on the largest moon of Tywod, but it turns out the compelling eyewitness accounts were caused by high levels of naturally-occuring hallucinogens in the drinking water coinciding with a snake invasion."
Bill snorted. "Yeah, hate when I get high and snakes show up to ruin it. Wait. How'd you find that story, just randomly opening a book? That's lucky."
"I read them all," the Doctor replied.
"You did what? Come on, Doctor! All five of them, really?"
The Doctor nodded.
"I don't believe you."
"I'll prove it. Lend me that book."
Bill passed the last book over to the Time Lord. He held it sideways and thumbed through the pages like he was viewing a flip book. The pages blurred by so quickly Bill could hardly pick out single words on any one page. There was absolutely no way in hell, she decided, the Doctor was doing anything beside having a joke.
The Doctor had nearly reached the back cover when he suddenly slammed the book down on the table. "Got it!"
Their holy grail of sand worm information consisted of a single page, a hand-drawn sketch of a long, dark shape, and a disclaimer by the author that the existence of the animal described within the text was dubious at best.
"This sounds like Bigfoot," Bill finally said after reading the page.
"Bigfoot? How does this sound like Bigfoot? It's not hairy, or an ape, and there's no mention of it even having feet, never mind big ones," the Doctor replied.
"I don't mean that it's actually Bigfoot, just the same kind of story. It sounds like a myth or an urban legend or people getting drunk and scaring themselves in the woods."
The Doctor shrugged. "Only one way to find out."
"If we take the TARDIS, Nardole's not going to lecture you, is he?" Bill asked.
"Nardole is out at...whatever he does every week. A book club, bridge game, nice dip in the English Channel. We'll be back before he suspects a thing."
Bill highly doubted that, but her burning desire to see a sand worm overrode any chance for sensibility. She joined the Doctor and they were off.
The planet was a humble rocky world roughly the size of Venus that wore a massive belt of desert around its equator and through most of its tropics. Further north and south there were patches of green, as well as one huge ocean and a scattering of smaller enclave inland seas.
While the Doctor ran an analysis on the planet's ability to support human and Time Lord life, Bill sat with the TARDIS doors open and gazed at the world below. The Doctor had assured her the air tunnel would prevent her from suffocating or being sucked into space, but the thought still lingered in the back of her mind. Bill kept a firm grip on the door frame and ignored the temptation to dangle her legs into the void. That seemed like pressing her luck a bit too far.
A ding issued from somewhere on the TARDIS's intricate control panel. The Doctor pressed a few buttons and then examined the text that now populated a nearby screen.
"What's the verdict?" Bill asked.
"The atmosphere is breathable," the Doctor replied.
"Great!"
"But the surface temperature is as hot as Death Valley."
"Less great."
"In the grand scale of temperature, it's not that bad," the Doctor said. "Sure, it'll kill you in a few hours, but it's not instant incineration. I once met a sentient, living star- No, you don't want to hear that, we're here for sand worms!"
Bill very much did want to hear it, but she also wanted to see her beloved sand worms without roasting. Making a mental note to ask the Doctor for the full story later, Bill instead inquired how the Doctor planned to beat the heat.
The Doctor's solution was mundane and practical, two adjectives never before associated with the Time Lord: light-weight, long-sleeved garments, hats, proper hydration, and limited exposure to the remorseless sun. Despite the Doctor's pallor suggesting he shunned the sun like Dracula, the TARDIS had a healthy selection of desert gear. Bill had a fantastic time digging through wardrobes, and mixing and matching an appropriate outfit. The Doctor settled for a spiffy hat and new boots.
Bill thrummed with excitement as the Doctor piloted the TARDIS to the planet below. The moment the TARDIS landed, Bill was at the doors, practically begging to throw them open.
"Go ahead," the Doctor said.
Bill opened the doors and the scorching breeze almost bowled her over. It was a withering, soul-crushing heat that mocked anyone who dared enter its domain. In a matter of moments it stole the moisture from Bill's mouth and promised to take every drop of fluid in her if she persisted.
The Doctor pressed an insulated water bottle into Bill's stunned hands. "This will help."
A long drink of icy water gave Bill the courage to step out into the desert. With her hat shielding her eyes from the glare of sunlight bouncing off sand, Bill took in her surroundings. She quickly discovered it was like looking out into the ocean, as it appeared to continue forever with little variation.
"That's one big desert," Bill observed.
"A proper Empty Quarter," the Doctor said.
"Because it takes up a quarter of the planet?"
The Doctor grinned, letting Bill know she got it right. The two of them spent a few more minutes marveling at the absurd extent of the desert, as well as watching for any signs of movement in the sand. Nothing except the wind stirred.
"I don't think we can just wait for something to happen. We might be here forever," Bill finally said.
"What's your plan?" the Doctor asked.
The Doctor was usually the Time Lord with the plan, but Bill figured sand worm lore from popular (and less-than-popular) fiction was more her area of expertise. The nice thing was, most of her sources agreed that the best way to get eaten by a giant worm was to make some noise.
Bill walked a few paces, stomping her feet as hard as she could with each footfall. The Doctor picked up what his companion was doing and joined her. They made a full loop around the TARDIS, sending vibrations from their exaggerated footsteps out in all directions.
"Phew." Bill wiped sweat from her brow. The distance they'd covered was hardly impressive, but between the lethal heat and how deeply her feet sunk into the sand with each step, Bill felt like she'd run several blocks.
"How far do you think our footsteps will carry?" Bill asked.
"It's hard to say," the Doctor replied. "Sand isn't particularly good for conducting sound, but I'm assuming a sand worm would be sensitive. It wouldn't do to miss the only meal that might come your way for weeks or months."
Sensitive or not, after five minutes there was no sign of anything approaching. Bill tried not to feel disappointed. It was an almost endless desert and even if the sand worms were as large as Earth whales, it was still a needle in a haystack the size of the Pacific Ocean.
"Let's try a few more locations," the Doctor said. "North or south, which sounds more promising?"
"Why not east or west?" Bill asked.
The Doctor dug around in his pockets and produced two coins. One was square, one was rhomboid, and neither bore the face of an Earthling.
"Two heads is north, two tails is south, one tail and one President Flek is east, and one tail and one Supreme Overlord Chancellor Boss-Man Endell is west," the Time Lord said.
"If you're addressing him, do you have to say the whole title or is there a version that saves time?"
"No, it's got to be the whole thing or he has a tantrum. In the right order, too, I found that out the hard way."
Bill filed away another story she had to squeeze from the Doctor after their current adventure concluded. While she did that, the Time Lord balanced the coins, one per hand, and prepared for launch. He counted down from three and then flipped both coins skyward.
A combination of awkward shapes and a sudden gust of wind knocked the coins off course. The Doctor fumbled for the falling coins. He was able to grab one, only to have the other bounce off his outstretched fingers.
"What direction should we go if one coin gets lost in the sand?" Bill asked.
The Doctor thrust the salvaged coin, still unseen, into Bill's hands. "I'm not ready to admit defeat yet."
From the depths of his pocket, the Doctor pulled out his sonic sunglasses. "I may be able to use these as a metal detector if I can calibrate-"
"Or it could be right there." Bill pointed to a bright sparkle a few feet away.
The Time Lord threw himself after the errant coin. "Heads!"
With that determined, the Doctor reached for the little troublemaker. As his fingertips brushed the edge of the metal, he paused.
"Looks like we're going north," Bill reported. She displayed her coin to the Doctor.
There was no reply from the Doctor, who now had two fingers pressed to his coin like he was checking its pulse. His eyes were narrowed in concentration. Just as Bill was about to ask him what was up, he took his free hand and laid it flat against the scalding sand.
"Doctor!" Bill cried. "You're going to burn yourself!"
"Something's coming," the Doctor replied. He lifted his palm and took a quick look at the damage. Most of the skin was an aggravated pink, but the Time Lord doubted it would so much as blister. Having established he hadn't done any permanent harm, he pocketed the coin and turned to Bill.
"Let's get back into the TARDIS. We'll be safer watching from the air."
Bill wasn't going to argue with that. Maybe it was just paranoia, but it seemed the sand was suddenly more lively. Even without a breeze, the grains trickled down the surrounding dunes. Just before she crossed the threshold, Bill could swear she felt a rumble under her feet.
"How high up should we go?" Bill asked.
The Doctor was already at the console. "I don't know; that drawing didn't indicate any sort of scale."
Bill turned back and looked out the way she'd just entered. There was no mistaking it, no writing it off as her imagination. The sand was practically hopping, untold trillions of particles sliding against each other.
"I think it's big." Bill's voice was a clenched peep.
The Doctor took a quick glance outside. The dunes and drifts of sand were collapsing. The Time Lord also took note of a growing rumble, like the earth itself was being torn apart. He forgot all about programming any specific altitude and settled for up as quickly as possible.
"Hold on!" the Doctor shouted.
Bill didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed the nearest solid part of the ship and fastened herself to it. As the blue box began to rocket skyward, Bill wished, not for the last time, that the TARDIS had seat belts.
In a matter of seconds the TARDIS reached 300 feet. The Doctor slowed the ascent. That had to be enough. It was thrice the length of the largest animal to ever inhabit the Earth. Having come so far across the galaxy—and having risked the disapproving glare of Nardole—the Doctor didn't want whatever was below them to be reduced to a speck.
"Are you sure we're high enough?" Bill asked. From her angle, all she could see out the door was sky. Steeling herself, she inched towards the entryway for a better look.
Was he sure? Not as sure as he'd been a few seconds ago. Bill's fear, coupled with his own knowledge that the universe held things so large they could bear an entire city upon their back, planted a seed of doubt that took root and blossomed.
"We can go higher," the Doctor said.
"I like that idea. Let's do-"
The ground beneath them exploded.
Bill was transfixed. Far below—and then, suddenly, nowhere near far enough—a tsunami of sand erupted into the sky. Within the wave of airborne sand, Bill could just make out a massive, writhing shadow.
The Doctor didn't see it, but he did hear it. He turned from the console and sprinted toward Bill. She was still in the doorway, frozen. The Doctor had seen that reaction before, countless times. In moments of extreme stress, when death was looming large and loud, the brain of many people packed its bags and went home.
Being grabbed by the shoulders and hauled away from the approaching horror of Lovecraftian proportions restarted Bill's sense of self-preservation. Her legs remembered how to work and the Doctor no longer had to half-drag her across the room.
"Get behind the console and stay low!" the Time Lord ordered.
Bill threw herself down and scrambled on her hands and knees until she was sure her entire body was behind the control panel. The Doctor joined her a moment later. The wave of sand followed milliseconds behind him.
The interior of the TARDIS was transformed into a whirling blizzard of choking, abrasive grit. Bill pulled her shirt over her mouth and nose and withdrew her hands into her sleeves. She was grateful for the wide-brimmed hat, which protected everything above the improvised mask.
As powerful as the burst of sand had been, propelled by an animal of such obscene size, there was nothing to perpetuate its motion. Without worm or wind to drive it, the sand settled quickly and stayed where it fell. And where it fell was...everywhere. They'd escaped the desert, so the desert had come visiting. Sand crept into every garment, every shoe, and every uncomfortable place imaginable.
The Doctor stood up first, sand cascading from his body. He extended a hand to Bill, who graciously took it. Both of them looked around the TARDIS, almost in disbelief at the huge quantity of mess the Time Lord had to deal with.
"Nardole is definitely going to know something happened," Bill said.
Before the Doctor could respond, the TARDIS was violently jarred. The Time Lord was knocked against the console and felt a lever jab just below his favorite kidney. Bill tumbled into the sand, which was considerably more fun than being shanked in the back.
"What happened?" Bill asked, rising and dusting herself off.
"If I had to guess- Oh, look, I don't. It's a tentacle."
Bill looked. It was a tentacle. Tentacles weren't as ubiquitous in the sand worm lore as hunting by sound, but they weren't unknown, either. Seeing the questing tendril, which had the diameter of a car tire, was, at worst, mildly perturbing to Bill.
"We should leave before the tentacle introduces us to the rest of the worm," the Doctor said. He brushed as much of the warm sand off the console as he could and then set to programming.
While the Doctor worked, Bill kept an eye on the tentacle. It seemed stretched pretty taut, so she hoped that meant both the worm and its appendage were at their full height.
"Do you want another view from much higher, or are you happy?" the Doctor asked.
"I have never been so happy and so close to peeing my pants at the same time," Bill replied. "Let's go home and, I don't know, find a broom and a hoover."
The Doctor finished setting the coordinates and the TARDIS dematerialized. A very confused sand worm was left wondering where its meal had gone. It waved its tongue-like tentacles around for a bit, confirmed there was nothing in the air, and sunk back into the embrace of the desert.
THE END
Thanks for reading.
Author's Notes:
"Ornithological" is relating to birds.
Tywod is just the Welsh word for sand. I am so creative at naming planets!
Death Valley, located in California, is the hottest spot on Earth. The highest temperature ever recorded there was 134°F (56.7°C).
The Empty Quarter is a section of incredibly hot, arid desert on the Arabian Peninsula.
The largest Earth animals are blue whales, which are about 100 feet long.
Lovecraft is an author famous for the "cosmic horror" genre.