January 2015 Writings - 8th

[fardell24]

8th

Excerpt from: The Doctor and Sarah 01: The Deadly Assassin

“Hmm, Perhaps, perhaps,” the Doctor mused.
 
“What do you mean, perhaps?” Spandrell asked. “There is a full biog on every Time Lord,” he clarified.
 
Hildred interrupted. “Runcible.”
 
Followed by Sarah. “Runcible!”
 
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Runcible got out, before collapsing. He had a stake in his back.”
 
“It was thrown, Doctor. One moment he was fine, and the next it was there!” Sarah explained.
 
“Did you see where it came from?” the Doctor asked.
 
“I’m afraid not,” Sarah admitted.
 
“Four cold-blooded killings in one day...” Spandrell mused as he, the Doctor, Sarah and Hildred entered the records room.
 
“Flea bitings, Spandrell, flea bitings. Things will get worse,” the Doctor said.
 
“Not here in the Time Lord Capitol!”
 
“Well, it might rouse some of them from their lethargy. They live for centuries and have just about as much sense for adventure as dormice.”
 
Coordinator Engin spoke up. “Nothing Castellan. There is no record of any Time Lord ever adopting that title.”
 
“I told you so. If there had been a DE on the Master, the first thing he would have done would be to destroy it,” the Doctor said.
 
“According to Coordinator Engin, the Time Lord data extracts cannot be withdrawn without the fact being recorded. I thought yours had been scanned recently, but he assured me that was impossible,” Spandrell explained.
 
“Rubbish!” The Doctor objected. “Anyone with a little criminal knowhow could do it. I could do it myself.”
 
“More than criminal know how, Doctor,” Engin put in an objection of his own. “Excitonic circuitry.”
 
“Child’s play to the Master. Do you think this stuff is sophisticated? There are worlds out there where this kind of equipment would be considered prehistoric junk.”
 
“What’s the Master like on mathematics?” Spandrell asked.
 
“He’s brilliant, absolutely brilliant. He’s almost up to my standard,” the Doctor asked. He spotted a piece of equipment. “What’s that?”
 
“The APC Control,” Engin explained.
 
“What?” the Doctor asked.
 
“Amplified Panatropic Computations.”
 
“Brain Cells,” the Doctor said.
 
“Yes. Trillions of electrochemical cells in a continuous matrix. The cells are the repository of departed Time Lords. At the moment of death, an electrical scan is made of the brain pattern and these millions of impulses are immediately transferred to the ...”
 
“Sush, I understand the theory.”
 
“Interesting....” Sarah said under her breath.
 
“What’s the function?” the Doctor asked.
 
“Well, to monitor life in the Capitol. We use all this combined knowledge and experience to predict future developments,” Engin explained.
 
“Ah. Like the assassination of a President,” the Doctor said.
 
“For some reason, that was not foreseen,” Engin said.
 
“Oh, yes. It was foreseen by me. How very clever. This time he’s surpassed himself,” the Doctor said.
 
“What are you talking about?” Spandrell asked.
 
“Well, don't you see what he's done? We Time Lords are telepathic. That's simply a brain storage system. He intercepted its forecast that the President was to be assassinated and beamed it into my mind.”
 
“Is that possible?” Spandrell asked.
 
“No,” Engin said.
 
“Obviously it is,” Sarah said.
 
“Thanks, Sarah,” the Doctor said. “Yes, he could do it. You said my DE had been scanned,” he asked Spandrell.
 
“Yes.”
 
“Yes. He'd need a biography print to beam a message accurately over that distance. It makes sense, Spandrell.”
 
“Maybe, but why?”
 
“I told you. Because he has an old score to settle.”
 
“Doctor, I simply cannot believe that anybody could do what you're suggesting. How can one intercept a thought pattern from within the Matrix itself?” Engin asked.
 
“By going in and joining it,” the Doctor said.
 
“You mean, a living mind?” Spandrell asked.
 
“Well, in a sense that's all a living mind is, electrochemical impulses. If I went in there, I could discover where he intercepted the circuit.”
 
“I couldn't allow that. It's too dangerous. The psychosomatic feedback might kill you,” Engin said.
 
“Are you sure, Doctor?” Sarah asked.
 
“Yes, I am sure. There is no other way,” the Doctor said.
 
“It’s never been done,” Engin said.
 
“It’s better than being vaporised, and that’s what’s in store for me if I don’t produce the Master,” the Doctor said.
 
 
Soon, the Doctor entered the matrix.
 
 
 
Matrix
The Doctor appeared in a simulation of a quarry. Sinister laugher echoed all around him. He recognised that laugher. It was the Master. He fell down a slope and over a precipice. He manages to lasso a bush to stop his fall. But a samurai appears and cuts the scarf with his sword. The Doctor falls.
 
 
Records Room
“It’s stopped,” Engin said.
 
“What’s stopped?” Sarah asked.
 
“Brain activity,” Engin said.
 
Sarah burst into tears.
 
“You mean he’s dead?” Spandrell asked.
 
“Virtually. I warned him. The Psychic shock of that environment...”
 
“But he’s still breathing!” Spandrell objected.
 
“Oh, motor functions continue for some. He’s back!” Engin said., but he was interrupted by Sarah.
 
“He’s back! Good!”
 
“His brain must have a high level of artron energy,” Engin continued.
 
 
Matrix
The Doctor awoke into a surgical theatre. A surgeon was over him holding a needle. “You were a fool, Doctor, to venture into my domain.”
 
 
 
The Doctor rolled off the table into a World War One battleground. He found himself trapped on a railway line.
 
=== End of Canonical Part 2 ===
 
 
 
Part 3
Gallifrey
Matrix
“It’s an illusion, dreams,” the Doctor said. He ran.
 
“I deny this reality. The reality is a computation matrix.”
 
The quarry walls flexed into circuit diagrams. The Doctor became dizzy and collapsed.
 
 
The Doctor came to. “I am the creator here, Doctor. This is my world. There is no escape for you.”
 
 
Records room
“His respiration has increased,” Spandrell said.
 
“I can see that,” Sarah said.

Words: 939


Excerpt from: Quinn's Code 12 Stacy the Brain

“I'm on top of the world!” she said.

Words: 9


Excerpt from: Quinn's Code 13 A Night at Kristen's

Saturday, March 18, 2006
Quinn Morgendorffer. Cindy Brolsma and Stacy Rowe arrived outside their friend, Kristen Leung-Bell's, house.

The house was a nondescript building, hidden by the trees in the front yard, at the end of a cul-de-sac.
“Nice trees,” Stacy said, trying to see the house from where she stood next to the mail box. She could only see the front door and two windows, which had blinds drawn.

“Very easy to climb too,” Cindy said, clearly remembering such a climb.

“Come on,” Quinn said, as she lead the others along the path. “She's expecting us.”


Kristen heard the doorbell. She put the Game Cube controller down and went to the door. “Hi, Cindy, Quinn, Stacy, welcome to the Leung-Bell's,” she said.

“Do you have to be so formal?” Cindy asked, with a slight laugh.

“Huh?” Quinn asked.

“A slight joke,” Cindy explained.

“Oh,” Quinn said.

Stacy turned to Quinn “Wait, you've been her friend for nearly six months, and haven't been over?” she asked.

“I hadn't invited her, and she hadn't asked. We mostly hang out at Cindy's,” Kristen explained.

“I suppose,” Stacy said.

“Come in,” Kristen said.


The four teens entered the kitchen, where Kristen's mother was making preparations for dinner. There were delicious smells coming from the stove.


“Mom.”

Krista Bell turned at her daughter's voice. “Kristen.”

“You know Cindy.”

“Hi,” Cindy said.

“These are Quinn Morgendorffer and Stacy Rowe.”

“Hi, Ms. Bell,” Quinn said.

“Hi-i,” Stacy said nervously.

“Welcome,” Krista said. She stepped towards Quinn. “I heard about the debate at the Coffee House.”

“I had to say something,” Quinn said. She was about to say something more when she was interrupted.

“That's certain. I also heard about what happened this week,” Krista said. She turned to Stacy. “I'm happy that you were able to stand up to that bully.”

“You heard about that?” Stacy asked, uncertainly.

“Kristen tells me a lot about what happens at school,” Krista said. She lowered her voice. “Unlike Kelly.” She shook her head, wondering where she and her husband had gone wrong with their middle child, not for the first time.

“I see,” Stacy said, also uncertainly. Her nervousness increased, so she started to breath deeply. 'Oh no!' she thought.

“Don't panic, Stacy!” Cindy said. “It's a habit from her work,” she said.

“Your work?” Stacy asked.

“All I'm allowed to say is that I work for the Government. The Feds. You understand?” Krista said, with slight hardness to her voice.

“Yes,” Stacy said, still slightly panicky.

“Worry not. What is said in this house, doesn't go beyond here,” Krista said, the hardness gone.

“Thank goodness,” Stacy said.

“Anyway, as I was saying, I'm happy that you are making good friends. You can rely on Kristen, and Cindy. Quinn, I don't know so well. But I trust my younger daughter's judgement.”

Kristen was embarrassed. “Oh, Mom!”

“Thanks!” Quinn said.

“As I was saying, your side of the debate was a good thing. Standing up for the downtrodden. Those who are picked on.”

“Yeah. I had to stop her from treating me badly,” Quinn said.

“I understand,” Krista said. “I had similar experiences at school.”

“She's going to go on for ages,” Kristen said with a sigh.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” Krista said, recognising that her daughter wanted to get her friends settled in for the night.


A minute later, the four friends entered Kristen's room.

“Cool room!” Stacy said, excitedly.

“It is, isn't it?” Cindy said.

“Um, yeah,” Quinn said.

The room was larger than any of their rooms. On one side was her closet, with her bed above it, overlooking the sliding door to an upstairs balcony, which looked over the back yard.

On the other side, was her computer and entertainment set up, with a large flatscreen television. Most of the walls were taken up with anime and JRPG posters.


Words: 692

Total: 1640