HAunted Series One
Episode One
The Davros Redemption
Written by The Genie
Foreword - by the Genie
If you’re reading this now, you’re probably in one of two positions: either you’re re-reading, or this is your first Haunted episode ever. If you’re a re-reader – well, you know the drill. It’s like any other Haunted episode, but it’s the first one. It’s now in prose form with some added bits and bobs here and there.
If you’re a new reader then I’ll quickly brief you on Haunted. Basically, it’s a Doctor Who fan-fic spin-off series that started in January 2013. However, this was before Series 7B, so, consequently, the impossible girl arc follows a different canon which takes some getting used to. Basically everything up to and including The Snowmen happened, but I have a different take on everything that comes after (you’ll see).
Who’s the Doctor? It’s entirely up to you. He’s not Capaldi (at this stage, anyway). He’s either an older Matt Smith, or another new incarnation who’s a bit like an older, more sombre Matt Smith. But he can be pretty much anyone you want. He’s on his last incarnation, anyway.
This first episode was written for fun. It started with the first scene, originally in script format, which I wrote on a whim. People liked it so I turned it into a full script (original title ‘The Redemption of Davros – later renamed to be waaaay snazzier). When I finished the script, I decided it was going to become a full series, so I planned out most of Series 1-4 then and there. So here is, effectively, the only standalone I ever wrote for Haunted. Enjoy.
After the finale a lot of readers requested that I include the tracks I wrote to so there are some of my own selections in here. Feel free to listen as you read. I think it really captures the mood.
The Davros Redemption
If you’re reading this now, you’re probably in one of two positions: either you’re re-reading, or this is your first Haunted episode ever. If you’re a re-reader – well, you know the drill. It’s like any other Haunted episode, but it’s the first one. It’s now in prose form with some added bits and bobs here and there.
If you’re a new reader then I’ll quickly brief you on Haunted. Basically, it’s a Doctor Who fan-fic spin-off series that started in January 2013. However, this was before Series 7B, so, consequently, the impossible girl arc follows a different canon which takes some getting used to. Basically everything up to and including The Snowmen happened, but I have a different take on everything that comes after (you’ll see).
Who’s the Doctor? It’s entirely up to you. He’s not Capaldi (at this stage, anyway). He’s either an older Matt Smith, or another new incarnation who’s a bit like an older, more sombre Matt Smith. But he can be pretty much anyone you want. He’s on his last incarnation, anyway.
This first episode was written for fun. It started with the first scene, originally in script format, which I wrote on a whim. People liked it so I turned it into a full script (original title ‘The Redemption of Davros – later renamed to be waaaay snazzier). When I finished the script, I decided it was going to become a full series, so I planned out most of Series 1-4 then and there. So here is, effectively, the only standalone I ever wrote for Haunted. Enjoy.
After the finale a lot of readers requested that I include the tracks I wrote to so there are some of my own selections in here. Feel free to listen as you read. I think it really captures the mood.
The Davros Redemption
|
Track 1 - The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel (Thomas Newman)
A track which I think really fits the mood of the opening scene, and suits the city of Shanghai to a tee. |
“Goodbye.”
The skyline was one of vivid colours; a metropolitan jungle in a deep, cloudless night. Stars twinkled flamboyantly and high-rise buildings gleamed with light. Dozens of fully-lit boats floated along a rather small tributary elegantly, accompanying the city life from below. There were cars everywhere and citizens wandering around aimlessly; others striding precisely. It could have been another planet, thought the Doctor. Even the buildings seemed like they were from another world; disco sci-fi balls protruding out from the beanpole like structures, and jagged rooftops topping off an electric metropolis. The Doctor approached the panoramic window of his ultra-modern, classy and exquisite hotel room.
“Goodbye,” he repeated, his hand shaking slightly as he slowly unlocked the door to the balcony. “Goodbye universe.”
He was always brought back there; to Shanghai in the country of China on the impossibly-familiar planet Earth. There was something about it; something that didn’t quite add up. Maybe I expect her to be here.
There were days when the Time Lords were gods of all creation; shaping evolution to their desires, and blurring inexplicably the boundaries of life and death. Since they’d gone, Earth became the new Gallifrey. They advanced quickly – too quickly. Perhaps one day they’d discover time travel. They too will be left with the burden.
There was the burden of knowing what you were capable of; knowing how many of your loved ones you could save, how many unexpected last words you could change. ‘No’ to ‘Thank you’. ‘Please…’ to ‘I love you’. Restraint hurt; more so for the Time Lord.
Like Gallifrey Earth was a dangerous place. A world of enticements; diversions. The Earth’s self-appointed guardian opened the door to the balcony and stepped out, breathing in the air, just below the clouds. It would only take a bit higher and he’d be there; out of life completely.
I can’t risk doing what I’ve started to do, he said to himself. I can’t play with the laws of time.
He approached the railings. They were steady, fittingly – but they wouldn’t stop the fall.
So the Doctor did exactly as he planned, closing his eyes to save himself from coming to terms with it. He paused; took another breath.
He outstretched his arm until it was away from the building and opened his palm. There sat the TARDIS key, glowing more enticingly than ever.
“Goodbye,” said the Doctor, preparing for his second and final exile…
…and let go of the key.
The skyline was one of vivid colours; a metropolitan jungle in a deep, cloudless night. Stars twinkled flamboyantly and high-rise buildings gleamed with light. Dozens of fully-lit boats floated along a rather small tributary elegantly, accompanying the city life from below. There were cars everywhere and citizens wandering around aimlessly; others striding precisely. It could have been another planet, thought the Doctor. Even the buildings seemed like they were from another world; disco sci-fi balls protruding out from the beanpole like structures, and jagged rooftops topping off an electric metropolis. The Doctor approached the panoramic window of his ultra-modern, classy and exquisite hotel room.
“Goodbye,” he repeated, his hand shaking slightly as he slowly unlocked the door to the balcony. “Goodbye universe.”
He was always brought back there; to Shanghai in the country of China on the impossibly-familiar planet Earth. There was something about it; something that didn’t quite add up. Maybe I expect her to be here.
There were days when the Time Lords were gods of all creation; shaping evolution to their desires, and blurring inexplicably the boundaries of life and death. Since they’d gone, Earth became the new Gallifrey. They advanced quickly – too quickly. Perhaps one day they’d discover time travel. They too will be left with the burden.
There was the burden of knowing what you were capable of; knowing how many of your loved ones you could save, how many unexpected last words you could change. ‘No’ to ‘Thank you’. ‘Please…’ to ‘I love you’. Restraint hurt; more so for the Time Lord.
Like Gallifrey Earth was a dangerous place. A world of enticements; diversions. The Earth’s self-appointed guardian opened the door to the balcony and stepped out, breathing in the air, just below the clouds. It would only take a bit higher and he’d be there; out of life completely.
I can’t risk doing what I’ve started to do, he said to himself. I can’t play with the laws of time.
He approached the railings. They were steady, fittingly – but they wouldn’t stop the fall.
So the Doctor did exactly as he planned, closing his eyes to save himself from coming to terms with it. He paused; took another breath.
He outstretched his arm until it was away from the building and opened his palm. There sat the TARDIS key, glowing more enticingly than ever.
“Goodbye,” said the Doctor, preparing for his second and final exile…
…and let go of the key.
The Laboratory
Doctor C. R. Zau stood in the corridor guarding the entranceway – if entranceway was the right word. It was a lavish metal arch, the area behind it shrouded by darkness and mystery; frustratingly symbolic. The lab was arranged in a castle-like setup, albeit lower like a secret passage. Zau enjoyed the enigma of it all.
He was a sinister looking man; tall, dressed in a simple black trench-coat and leather gloves and in his late 40s. His eyes were thin, almost sceptical, like mere slits rather than intricate sensory organs.
Delaney approached in his trademark Italian pin-striped suit, his hair combed back neatly. Zau tried not to anger himself. His hair was as neat as Delaney’s, but admittedly Delaney had quite a bit more of it. Delaney handed Zau a piece of paper which Zau glanced at suspiciously; half-genuine, and partly just going it to wind him up.
“What is it?” asked Zau emotionlessly.
“A letter for Mr Lucincer, sir,” replied Delaney, trying all-too-successfully to mirror Zau’s demeanour.
“Professor Lucincer,” corrected Zau.
“Professor, sorry.”
“In regards to…”
“A finding, sir. From the Baoshan District laboratory.
“Baoshan have made it perfectly clear in the past that they have no interest in our affairs,” murmured Zau in something that vaguely resembled a reply. “What could be so imperative that it amends a violation – and interrupts in Professor Lucincer’s highly important work? He is a very busy man, and I am one of little patience. Be swift.”
“Well, it’s something of a mystery,” said Delaney, starting to stumble over his words like a work experience student, “but it would most likely interest him. It seems to be very much in his… field, sir. Show the paper to him, please. I will leave now.”
“Yes, you ought to.”
“Goodbye, Mr Zau.”
After waiting a moment, the scent of testosterone fuelling the atmosphere, Delaney left, realising he wouldn’t get a response from Zau, whilst Zau headed through the archway and into darkness.
The House of Olivia Quinn
Olivia was a young woman; little over twenty, living in an extravagantly luxurious house. Her living room was such a striking size that it warranted a perfectly-fitting grand piano and a white one, too, to match the colour scheme and make best use of the light. The armchairs were formal but comfortable; a chaise lounge sat on a rug as casually as it would be used, surrounded by some elegantly-carved fittings; tables with curled legs, carefully fashioned units and a rich red runner. The view from the window promised another glorious day.
Olivia gracefully played her piano. ‘Gracefully’ wasn’t a word that you’d need to use if you knew Olivia. Her whole act of playing the piano was grace itself – she’d sway from left to right in time with the music, her hands hammering the keys passionately, her fingers breezing across them. When the staccatos came as they would, the room leapt up with them, and when the broken chords entered, the whole house itself seemed to break into something quite spectacular.
Her hair was tied back, and her beautiful English, yet somewhat bronzed complexion was utterly at peace despite the complexity of what she played: a challenging arrangement of Pachelbel’s Canon. She wore a white skirt and a pink blouse. Not even the knock at the door caused Olivia to move, as she kept her eyes fixed on the piece.
“Come in!” she called, trying not to lose track as she normally did when she spoke.
Alex Paige entered. She was the same age as Olivia; even a stranger could tell they were close friends, through their knowing and nonchalant attitudes; their casual attires, their offhand remarks. The kind of thing that would be considered flippant to most. Especially from Alex.
The dark, frizzy hair – very becoming – was the main difference between the two. Granted there were others, deeper. Olivia was an attractive woman with a pure, naïve beauty; Alex was just as attractive, but in a more outwardly, less ‘sweet’ manner. The world had left its mark upon her visage.
Alex opened the fridge, grabbing a bottle of wine and pouring herself a glass. She laid down on the chaise lounge, closing her eyes as the world crafted by Olivia’s playing formed before her darkened vision, illuminating the absence with something greater than the tangible. Once finished, Olivia turned to face her.
“It sounds delightful,” complimented Alex.
“Thanks.” Olivia took a deep breath. Relief. “I’ve nearly mastered it.”
“Are you still alright for the concert next week?”
“Yes, I think so. But I can’t say I’m not nervous… considering my track record. One more mess-up, I’ll be out. I know it.”
“Stop worrying!” Alex patted the seat in gesture for Olivia to join her. “You’ll be fine!” She gave Olivia a gentle, friendly hug. “I’ve heard you play – you’re amazing! That’s why you came out here, remember? That’s why I came out here with you.”
“I came out here to get away from home,” replied Olivia bluntly. “You followed.”
“Do you know what your problem is?
“What?”
“You become a right cow when you’re stressed. I have to leave now… I’ll be back later on.” Alex placed emphasis, somehow, on the trailing of her voice.
“Why did you come here then?” asked Olivia.
“I came to tell you I got a promotion!” Alex clapped her hands in glee. “Zau’s appointed me as Lucincer’s personal adviser – his first one!”
“Lucincer’s the country’s biggest genius,” retorted Olivia, unimpressed. “Why on earth does he need advising?”
“He’s under a lot of stress,” explained Alex in the tone of someone making excuses for a friend. “He needs someone to help him balance his responsibilities. He’s onto a new experiment. Something called… the Davros project.”
The Laboratory
Zau kept his close guard over the ominous archway; and, again, was greeted by the exasperatingly familiar face of Delaney. He made no effort to disguise his overly vexed countenance. Anyone who knew Zau would know of his impatient temperament; anyone who knew him deeper would know that patience was his greatest gift and something which he reserved.
“Sir,” started Delaney, babbling, “I, sorry – I was here the other week – about – with a letter, sir, for mister – P – Professor Lucincer – I was wondering if you’d – if he’d-“
“Who sent you?” interjected Zau.
“Well… I was… it was quite-“
“Who, pray tell, sent you here? Who gave you these orders?!”
“I did- I just wanted to see if Luc- professor, if the professor had said anything about the k- you didn’t give it to him, did you?”
“I don’t see what concern it is of yours.” Zau felt his heart racing with anger. “As I previously informed you, I’m not a man to be negotiated with, nor a man to be messed with. I wish you would not incessantly bother me. I am tired of your arrivals already. Please leave.”
“Forgive me for intruding, sir, but it is vital that the letter and the – look, what I gave you the other day, must reach the professor’s hands. I need you-“
The idea struck Zau and a sadistic smile crept across his face.
“If you’re so fervently confident that the professor will benefit…” he turned his head enigmatically. “Why don’t you present it to him yourself?
“Oh, that’s very kind,” started Delaney, backtracking, “but –“
“Go,” instructed Zau, handing over the letter. There was no need to shout. The sinister tones of his voice were enough. “I don’t want to prolong this much longer.”
“Yes, sir.”
Delaney stepped through the arch, wary of what was behind it. His primal instincts kicked in, coupled by his unique trepidation. Like a cat in a new territory.
And soon the darkness changed, lifting its veil of secrecy to reveal exactly what Delaney had imagined: a vast, phenomenal laboratory; the workplace of a genius. But as with all expectations, some were betrayed. A patterned rug covered the floor along with some very old, Edwardian-style furnishings – desks, bookshelves, workbenches – all used for scientific purposes, yet peculiar-looking in a scientific environment. There was no sign of anyone else.
“Hello?” asked Delaney. His voice trembled. He hated it.
“Come through…” The voice was cold and unfriendly, but suitably human. The exact sentiments of Delaney. Suitably human. For the first time in his life, he tried to justify the humanity in a voice, as if, for some reason, he doubted its presence at all…
The House of Olivia Quinn
Another knock at the door came on cue, exactly half-way through I Giorni.
“Come in!” called Olivia.
The door closed gently and Olivia continued playing, abruptly stopping when she saw the silhouette of a man out of the corner of her eye.
“I was just taking a stroll outside when I heard this beautiful playing,” said the man. “I hope you don’t mind…” He eyed the chaise lounge, dismissing it for being too informal, and sat down on an armchair. “I’d love to listen a bit longer. I’ve been depressed lately. This sort of thing helps me to connect with the world. Please, continue.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m a friend… a passer-by. Please, play some more. At least finish the song.”
“Why? You’ve just walked into my house!”
“You invited me in.”
“I thought you were someone else.”
“Well I probably am. I didn’t tell you who I was; how do you know I’m not? Anyway, I’m too tired to be dangerous. And old, but you probably don’t believe that half. Or the tired half. But I am. Look at my eyes. They’re sleepless.” He pointed to the dark rings under his eyes.
“You’re mad…”
“I think I probably am, but like I said, too tired to show you. Play a madman to sleep.”
“No!” protested Olivia.
“Why not? You need the practise. You didn’t smile once during that rendition, you didn’t even have happy eyes.”
“What is it with you and eyes?”
“Well, they say a lot, the eyes. You don’t like the song. But why not? Everyone loves Einaudi. Ah – you’ve overplayed him. You’re practising. Now you’re practicing so much because you’re nervous, because whatever it is is coming closer. I’d say it’s an exam but you’re too rich for that. So you’re a – pianist?”
“And you’re a charismatic stalker. Do you want me to call the police?”
The man shut his eyes. “Look…” he whispered. “Tired eyes shutting. Play on, go on. No one likes an unfinished melody.”
Reluctantly, completely against her instincts, Olivia finished her performance. It was pleasant but with mistakes; it was textbook, in fact – not flowing like what the man heard as he entered. Something had changed; shifted.
“So…” began the man. “Who are you?”
“Who are you?” re-joined Olivia. “And why do you think you can just walk into my house?”
“I’m the Doctor and as I’ve said already, I was invited. I was hoping you’d answer and then you’d let me in. I’d explain that I’ve been getting over depression. You’d let me sit down and I’d listen while you practise. Then I’d make you a cup of tea. We’d have a quiet chat, and I’d leave, feeling better for myself. But clearly I distracted you. Sorry; I didn’t realise I was putting you off.”
“That is not what strangers do!” Olivia turned suddenly calm. “But it’s fine, mad person-“
“-Doctor-“
-“Doctor, it’s fine. I needed you here. I’m performing at the concert hall next Friday – Huangpu – solo – and I’m honestly not ready.”
“Because you sit down to play brilliantly,” continued the Doctor on her behalf, “but the second anyone else is in the room, you can’t do it anymore. It just becomes about following rules. It stops being art.”
“Exactly.” Olivia couldn’t send him away. He understood.
“The question,” asked the Doctor, “is how you’ve got all this!” He gestured to the grandiose living room.
“I’ve sold hundreds of records back in the UK,” said Olivia. “But then computers came along. You can type in the notes and they’ll play it for you. People don’t care about recordings anymore. Through progression we’ve regressed. They want the real thing.”
“Then,” asked the Doctor, “if you don’t mind my asking – why did you decide to come out here?”
“I came here to get away from the stresses of home,” replied Olivia with a weary sigh. “Our family had a lot of problems and I came out there and bought all this in the hope that I could forget.”
“I know the feeling,” joked the Doctor sarcastically.
“Sorry… I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
“I have one of those faces – and I’m a good listener. Hey, maybe we could meet up again, before the concert. I know it’s nice to let your hair down with someone you don’t know. I’m not talking about a date – I don’t ‘do’ that – just a drink and a chat. Truth is, I’m new around town, and I’m stuck here now. I need a friend.”
“Yeah,” agreed Olivia, trusting her gut feeling. “Yeah, that would be great. See you then, ‘Doctor’.”
The Laboratory
“Don’t be frightened now…”
Delaney edged his way further into the darkness. How was it so dark? Who could – and, more to the point, would – want to work in a place like this? Professor Lucincer was no longer a distinguished man. He was an enigma; a death-threat.
“Come closer.” It was a normal voice; male, unremarkable, if a little unsure of itself. “Come where I can see you. Just g- argh!”
“Are you alright, professor?” asked Delaney, responding to the sudden cry of pain.
“Stay back!” The voice faltered. It sounded different; inhuman. It had a croak to it but distorted sadism too. It screamed as it whispered, bellowed as it spoke. “That’s better.” The human voice returned. “Sorry, just a pain. Over here, now…”
The voice became flesh as he emerged from the shadows; half-human, half-machine, it seemed, with a cylindrical case of half-spheres for legs and an upper-torso garbed in clinical black leather. His face was brown and creased. A blue eye shone from his forehead.
“It’s fine,” he began, in a strangely human voice. “Everyone is a little shocked at the start. Welcome to my laboratory. I am professor Lucincer. Now… why have I been summoned? I am a busy man.” As quickly as he beckoned Delaney, he summoned up anger. “Do not delay!”
“S-sorry, sir…” Delaney was lost for words. “I…”
“I am in the chair because of an accident when I was younger,” answered Lucincer in response to the unspoken question. “I have a skin condition because of it. Think nothing of it! Hurry!”
“No, I am sorry, I…” Delaney took a deep breath. Calm. Respectful. Swift. Calm, respectful, swift… “I have something which might interest you. It’s a key.
“A key, you say? A key to where, exactly? I can acquire whatever I chose. I don’t need a key!”
“Well, you see… it’s the most unusual key I’ve ever seen. It fell to the floor as I was passing an apartment block; someone clearly dropped it out of their window – or off of their balcony. Anyway, it was… glowing. I took it to the lab – the Baoshan district lab – I work there – and it has the most curious properties. It seems to emit an odd sort of radiation I’ve never seen before – nothing harmful, as such, more like a background radiation. And I thought… it sounded like the kind of thing that would interest you.”
And surprisingly, the Professor responded with...
“Thank you…”
“Delaney, professor.”
“Thank you, Delaney. Does this key… interest you?
“Yes, professor. Very much.”
“Then perhaps you would like to work at my side? It would be a strictly clandestine operation, you do understand? You tell no one!” Delaney saw a new side to him. The frenzied anger became a wild curiosity.
“Professor, it’s an honour.”
“So you accept my proposition?”
“Well, if you are asking… yes.”
“Good,” concluded Lucincer. “Let us get to work – I have some idea about this ‘key’. We’ll call this the TARDIS project, I think…”
The Streets of Shanghai
Truly in the shadows of the city, the Doctor stood against a mossy wall in a darkened side-street, dressed in a tuxedo and admiring the lanterns hanging down from the walls, swinging in time with the dripping drainpipe. The environment was grubby, but the Doctor knew this: China simply was. He recognised Olivia, dressed in a smart black dress and gorgeously made-up. The Doctor smiled an old, wise, ancient weary but utterly hopefully smile and took Olivia’s arm playfully.
“I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” said Olivia.
“Me too,” agreed the Doctor. “Sorry I delayed it until Friday, but I thought it would be nice if you had some fun before the big performance – but don’t drink too much!”
They exchanged a friendly grin and set off together, walking through a lively street; past large and oddly-shaped buildings, a ‘PINGANG’ sign, billboards with Chinese writing, roads and lively street corners. The streets were flooded by lights, lights of all different colours; it was night, yet it’s brighter than day, and the sky was cloudless, unusually free of pollution, and the stars could be seen. The stars in particular attracted their attention, and the pair both spent some of the journey craning their necks to see them.
“The sky is beautiful, isn’t it?” remarked Olivia.
“Yes, it is,” decided the Doctor. “You’d think in a city like this that it would be filled with gases and mist… but it’s so natural.”
“Normally it is… but tonight, apparently not. You should see the sky on New Year – Chinese New Year, that is. It’s beautiful, full of lanterns. They’re into their ancient traditions here… cultural values. They’re so different to back home.”
“Why did you choose to come here, specifically? Why not… I don’t know, Australia? That’s as far away from home as you can get. What did Shanghai especially have to offer?”
“Nothing, really. But I just felt… sort of drawn to it.”
“Yeah, me too,” said the Doctor, smirking. “Do you have any friends?”
“I have one, yes. Alex – Alex Paige. Friend from back home. Mutual troubles. We just sort of found each other.”
“Well, she came out here because I did; I think I was her only friend. She works for professor Lucincer now.”
“I’ve heard that name a lot. What does he do?”
“He’s a scientist – a complete and utter genius. He was responsible for the Sukui SmartPhone, that’s how he made his name. He contributed ideas towards the Baoshan satellite, though the two districts had a falling out. You never see him.” She spoke in a storybook-voice, painting the scene of a mad professor. “Apparently he had an accident as is terribly crippled; it’s so sad, in magazine interviews he sounds like such a lovely man. Now he’s working on a restoration project to try and get him off the life-support system. He’s called it… oh, what was it?”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter, the name isn’t important. Mind you, it has to be said he sounds like an old friend – well, sort of friend, not really friend at all – I had a long time ago. Though that part was lost at the lovely man part-“
“That’s it!” remembered Olivia, startling the Doctor, then proceeding to startle to a whole new level. “The Davros project.”
The Doctor’s world broke down around him, as the safe group seemed to shake beneath his feet and the smell of fresh Chinese food became toxic to his senses. “What?”
“It that bad?”
“My old friend who’s not a friend at all – it’s him. Where is he? I need to get to him, now!”
“He’s just a couple of roads away from here. But you’re not allowed to see him, not whilst Doctor Zau is on guard.”
The Doctor turned around, looking back coldly at Olivia. “Doctor Zau hasn’t met me yet.”
The Laboratory
‘Professor Lucincer’ – or, as he’d called himself so long ago, Lord Davros – stood by a workbench with Delaney, examining the key under a microscope while the latter recorded results in a rather scrappy old notebook.
“It’s definitely a TARDIS key!” observed Davros.
“Is that… good?” asked Delaney. “Or bad? Or neither?”
“The Timelords are long since dead. They were all taken out of their respective times to fight in the war… it means, there can only be one other. It must be the Doctor! And if he’s here… then no doubt, he’ll find me before long.” Davros shivered in anticipation and called out to his assistant. “Zau, when he arrives, let him in. Oh, after such a long time… The Doctor is returning!”
Davros cackled an insane laugh and slipped the key into a drawer. The sound of the slamming drawer was louder than usual, and Davros realised it had been accompanied by the slamming of a door – the Doctor entered.
The Doctor approached Davros and Davros hovered closer to the Doctor; the typical standoff, but the lines between hero and villain were further blurred. “Stand back,” warned the Doctor to Olivia.
“Doctor…”
“Lord Davros,” whispered the Doctor, shaking his head in disbelief. “After so long… I offered you my mercy, and you declined. I thought you died. I went on so many journeys. I loved, I lost, I broke one heart, and then I broke the other. I fought the Silence – I answered the Question, when no other man could, and I returned here, out of both awareness of my own power and a broken heart – to be confronted by none other than you. I’m old and I’m past caring. I’m past acting, I’m past salvation. I ask only one question: what do you want?”
“I want… “ Davros paused, looking for the word. “Your forgiveness.”
“My forgiveness?” repeated the Doctor.
“Perhaps, it would be best first if I explained how exactly I got here. Well, you see I was resurrected. The new Dalek paradigm salvaged me with my life support from the explosion in the Crucible. I was nearly dead, but the life support system had sustained me. They wanted to use my genetic code to create more pure Daleks, but I declined. They’d taken me back to Skaro, you see; their new empire. The supremacy of the Daleks – an imposing intention, don’t you think? But it was horrific… even I could see that. So I escaped, using their own technology; an emergency temporal shift. Doctor Zau rescued me when he found I’d arrived on a street corner. Just an ordinary human, notwithstanding, a doctor; he saw the potential in me, and he decided to preserve it, becoming almost my apprentice. I’m past the days of violence, Doctor. I want to make a change. I want to change. Are you denying me that?”
“Like I can believe that you’d want to change,” retorted the Doctor, picking up and admiring scientific paraphernalia as he spoke. “I’ve seen your insanity, Davros. You tried to annihilate all life in the universe, remember? Oh, and you christened me. ‘The Destroyer of Worlds’… how very ironic of you.”
“Are you denying me the right to change, Doctor?” persisted Davros.
“After what you’ve done…” The Doctor looked Davros in the eye and spoke so quietly that Olivia was shut out momentarily. “I could deny you the right to live.”
“And yet the last time we met, you offered me your mercy. Fascinating. The Doctor is a man of infinite possibilities. He sealed the Medusa Cascade single-handedly, and saved every single creature in the galaxy from total extermination. Yet now he’s drifting the streets of Shanghai, judging whether people are allowed to live… or whether they should die.” He barred his teeth in something of a smile. “You call me a persecutor, Doctor? Take a look at yourself and make that verdict again. Go on, say it.”
“And if I let you go, anything could happen. Wales, 2005: I gave Margaret Blaine a second chance, and she nearly decimated Cardiff. England, 1913: I let the Family of Blood run and seek a better life, but they ended up killing hundreds of innocents. I’ve learnt from my mistakes: I’ve learnt that the monsters of our world don’t deserve second chances. If I let you go, I’ll be faced with the same dilemma, because something will happen, and I’ll be forced to punish you. Why not just end it now? Like I said, I’m old; tired. There’s no time for mercy.”
“Do you know why I launched the Davros project?” asked Davros. “It was a way to remove myself from the true Davros, and become Professor Lucincer for good. I don’t want to be Davros anymore; I don’t even want to be Kaled. I’m creating a concoction which will make me fully human. You won’t know of me. But I want to help humanity now. I want to guide them, build a better future. It’s penance for my sins. Surely you couldn’t argue that?”
“Like I told an old friend a long time ago,” re-joined the Doctor, angrily, “you can’t decide how your justice is served!”
“An old friend, Doctor? And what happened to them?”
“He…” The Doctor broke eye contact remorsefully. “…died.”
“You might be too old for mercy but perhaps you’re also too old for chastising. Just forget me, please. Just leave me be. “
The Doctor stared thoughtfully for a moment, and Olivia, surprisingly, perked up.
“I’ve seen you Doctor – and from what I’ve seen, you’re not a bad man. Could you bear the weight of an execution on your conscience? What good would it do you? What good would it do anyone?” She stopped, taken aback by how quickly she’d adapted to the environment. She didn’t even know who either of these people were.
“You know what? You’re right. I’m going to let you off, this once. But I’ll be watching. And if I see any suspicious behaviour here, any at all – I’ll kill you,” threatened the Doctor, “and everyone involved. Do you understand me?”
“Absolutely.”
The Doctor walked off, accompanied by Olivia who regarded him sceptically. The Doctor shut the door quietly on the way out and was escorted away by Doctor Zau. He never once looked at his eyes – there was something about that man that made them uncomfortable, especially the Doctor…
Zau re-entered the lab after the Doctor had left the building and Delaney had run off for a brief comfort break – probably enough time to process the moral spectacle.
“We’re going to follow him to his home,” instructed Davros to Zau. “I want to get my hands on that TARDIS!”
“With all due respect professor” interjected Zau, “you can’t go out on the streets unnoticed.”
“I’ve perfected my potion to temporarily recover myself physically. Not for long, but for enough time to do what I need. I can fly a TARDIS; it was something we were all taught in the Time War. I have a plan, Zau. I need your help.”
Davros placed a small vase of red opaque liquid to his lips and consumed it. His physical appearance began to alter; he begun a spastic gesticulation, and, crying out, his skin morphed into that of a normal human, as, with a great struggle, he stood.
“I am… free!”
Apartment Block – Outside the Doctor’s Room
The Doctor slowly opened the door, straightening his lapels for the big moment.
“You must have known I wasn’t just a normal human,” he said, with a wide grin emerging. “And now, be prepared to see…”
He pushed the door open and made a grand gesture towards the wall. “The TARDI-“
His face dropped.
“What is it?” asked Olivia. “What’s wrong?”
“The TARDIS.” The Doctor stared at the patterned wall in wide-eyed horror. “It’s gone. He’s… he’s taken the TARDIS.”
The Laboratory
Davros had blatantly left in a hurry. Equipment had been haphazardly left out, like unwanted possessions in a burgled house. The Doctor quickly scanned the room for items that would be of use.
“He must’ve had the key!” cursed the Doctor.
“How could he have the key?” asked Olivia.
“Well, I sort of… threw it off a balcony.”
“Well, that was clever. Don’t you have a spare?”
“Yes. But it’s… in the TARDIS.” He rolled his eyes.
“So hang on, what is this ‘TARDIS’?”
“It’s a time machine. And for some reason, ‘Mr Innocent’ has decided to take it out for a quick trip.”
“Is there any way of tracking it?”
The Doctor flicked through a notebook. “Ah ha! It would seem so. Davros has been working on leftovers of attempted time travel by the Kaleds – he’s been planning this. Only, he’s left his notebook out. Date and time he was planning to arrive at – brilliant!”
“And where exactly is he going?”
“It seems he’s heading back to the late Stone Age from the given year. But why would he do that?”
“Is there any way of going after him?”
“Of course there is. I can experiment with what he’s left me here – this is a nearly-complete time machine he’s got. In fact, it is complete.”
“So why didn’t he just use that?”
“Because it’s homemade. And you know what it’s like; sometimes they don’t meet the requirements of shop-bought. He’s used the nucleus of a white hole instead of a black hole.”
“Is that important?”
“It means the machine can only travel back in time. If he’d used this, you see, he’d have been stuck in the past. Whatever he’s planning, he obviously wants to return here.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“We’re going to use this one.”
The Doctor crouched down and started working on the machine: a metal plate, about 2m by 2m in measurement, with a TARDIS-like console in the middle. The console was round; the switches quite old and worn; some falling off, with a plethora of miscellaneous debris attached to hold it together. There were no walls and virtually no vortex fortification. The Doctor regarded it with an element of apprehension, but continued regardless. Once ready, he signalled Olivia to step on, and after the flicking of a few switches, they were suddenly on the top of a cliff in a brand new era, only the metal plate remaining from the lab. Particles of dust diffused across the cliff-top; fragments of the world to come.
This cliff was rock-strewn and soaring, anticyclone, and the horizon was a green one; there was a river shortly below where some hominids – early humans – were washing. It was almost like a beach party but less evolved. The Doctor turned around and saw collapsed human body. Running over to it, he swallowed, identifying the silent observer from his conversation with Davros. Delaney.
“Delaney… what happened?”
“It’s Lucincer…” murmured Delaney. “He told me what he was… I told him to stop…”
“What’s he planning? You have to tell me, please!”
“Change… history…” Delaney fought to keep his eyes open. “The first… humans…”
He slipped away.
The Doctor muttered to himself. “Davros is going to… Olivia, are you alright?”
“I… I know I went along with it,” said Olivia, motionless, catching her breath. “But I never believed that this could be possible. I’ve travelled in time… “
“I know,” hurried the Doctor, “it’s amazing… but we have to save this for later.”
“I know. Sorry. Let’s go.”
The Doctor and Olivia trekked up a hill and another man appeared at the top. This one wasn’t dead – he was worse, and he was no man. He had the physical shape of an ordinary man, but a poor posture; his skin was that of a normal white British male, but distorted around the mouth, as if the mouth were a wormhole, sucking in the air around it, leaving the close area free of oxygen, forced to writhe like a grotesque freak of nature. The hair was thin and the face sickly – there was hope in the eyes but also a perceptive sense of failure. He looked at the Doctor and spoke to him a shaky, yet human voice.
“Leave me, Doctor!” he cried out so that the Doctor could hear him from the distance. “Let me make my own way!”
“You know, I gave you a chance, and look what you’ve done! What’s this then, eh? Are you planning to wipe out humanity? Replace Earth with a new species, Dalek point two?”
“No!” bellowed Davros. “I said I wanted to guide this world and that’s what I’m doing! I’m going to guide them from the beginning, visiting to most vital eras of history, and helping humanity make the right decision.”
“Is that it? There’s got to be a catch.”
“And… I can change things. Oh, yes. The Romans will never become extinct under my ruling! I can be their God! Lord Davros! Think of it, Doctor, oh yes… 2013, the New Roman Empire, with myself as their monarch – there would be no conflicts! No oppression! No preconception, no violence, no discrimination, no hatred, no destruction!”
“You can’t change history!” shouted the Doctor. “Yes, people suffer, people die – but changing that, you’re putting evolution at stake. You can’t fight nature.”
“Oh, but I can.” Davros’ eyes glistened with ambition. “This is my chance to redeem myself – and who knows, if I’m successful here, I can go on further – stop the Kaled war, become the emperor of the universe, stop battles all across the galaxy!”
“I know what the war did to you, and I know why you resent it. But sometimes being the king isn’t winning at all.” The Doctor reached Davros and looked down at him as he fought his own biological mutation. “I’m a guardian, Davros. I’ve looked after the cosmos since it began, but I don’t interfere anymore, I let the bad things happen, but I make the good things better. Join me. You don’t have to be the ruler over everything. Just help with the small things – sometimes, if you do enough little acts, the greater ones become insignificant, because you’ve played your part in the universe.”
“You don’t understand, do you, Doctor? This reality is wrong! I’m stopping all the depravity in creation – surely that’s good? I have controls to the laws of time now. I will be a good ruler,” he assured himself.
“You’re just not listening, are you?”
Davros grimaced, letting out a harrowing shriek of agony. He dropped to the floor, trembling; his figure contorting.
“You have to help me!”
“You can’t change what you’ve become, Davros. You will always be Davros now. Some sins can’t be undone.”
“You can’t just let him die!” protested Olivia. “You have to help him!”
“Oh, Olivia.” The Doctor shook his head. “I wish it were that simple. But the mixture he created was toxic to the best of us. I’m afraid he wasn’t careful enough.”
Davros let out one more cry, and dropped fully to the ground. The Doctor stood back coldly whilst Olivia crouched down and held onto Davros’ hand.
Davros looked up at her deeply with his piercingly-bright blue eye. Olivia tried to find some meaning in them, some sense, but they were alien. It was like trying to talk through a wall. Uncertain, she gives him a friendly smile.
“It’s alright, now.” Olivia held his trembling hand. “Everything’s going to be alright.”
“Is the war over yet Mum?” asked Davros. Olivia realised he was hallucinating. “Can I go home?”
“Yes, my dear. The war is over. You’re going home now.”
The light went out in that single, blue eye, and Olivia gently let go of his hand. “Poor thing. Poor, poor thing.”
The Laboratory
“I almost feel like returning the key to the drawer now,” said the Doctor. “But no. I’m keeping it this time.” He opened the drawer and pulled out a letter. “Caught my eye the first time. You can head back to the hotel,” he called to Olivia. “I’ll follow.” He secretively opened the letter.
I was born into a world of war; underground, beneath a raging chasm of fires. I only got to see the landscape once and it was a twisted one: cliffs and mountains bent out of shape, nuclear storms swelling up the sky, remnants of battles long since lost resonated across the horizons. Days of bloodlust; days of savagery.
I looked into a puddle that day. We didn’t have mirrors; we existed in small rooms, which were enclosed in padding to keep out chemical leaks and radiation spills from outside. Imagine it – twenty years of nothing. A room – barely a room – the same room, forever, the walls etched into your minds so that they stayed there even when you closed your eyes. There’d been a chemical overflow and some had got in through the walls. There was a puddle on the floor which I cautiously approached. I advanced on it. Curiously, I looked into it, and I saw myself. A young man: ambitious, buoyant, and the epitome of virtue. What if I could bring an end to this war?
I had to help. My logic betrayed my instincts; I used my own family to find cures to war-related illnesses and to learn how to modify the existence of the Kaled race. I couldn’t help my trials. If they failed, they failed. I had to detach sentimentality from cold determination. It was the lesser of two evils. I was looking for cures and my family assisted me – just not out of their own preference.
I left five years later and applied for a job as a doctor in a hospital. Doctor; scientist – philosopher; agnostic. Words often relate.
I helped the sick and the wounded. I witnessed the grotesque actualities of the Skaro war. I treated Kaleds who were beyond help, but optimism prevails. That’s an important lesson as a doctor.
And I did my own tests. I trialled new vaccinations. I twisted evolution, looking for a way to sustain fruitful existence in our people.
The day the bomb hit was the day I realised. It crashed before we even saw it and I felt an inconceivable force pushing down on me. I was falling, and falling and falling, through a void of oblivion; past the deceased, past the lost, past the supernatural.
When I was back in the hospital, I just sat, shaking. The worst part was the fact that I’d survived. I was scarred. I stared down, and there it was; a pool of my own blood. I again stared at my reflection. It was an unpleasant countenance; sly, sinister, intimidating. I was no longer an innocent young man. I’d done wrong like the rest. I hadn’t been helping them at all. The truth confronted me: I was experimenting on them.
I lifted my trembling hands, and I touched my head. The pain reverberated inside my skull, like someone was twisting a knife inside. I pulled my hands and my skin began to peel. That is when the unhappy life of Professor Sorvad came to an end. My mien became my newly-found inner malice. As I sat there, I realised what I had to create to bring an end to this inferno. I rifled through my brain and I found the concept – or rather the concept found me. I looked at the Daleks – and the Daleks looked back at me.
That was when I became Lord Davros. And I liked it.
“Oh, Davros,” said the Doctor, sadly, then, laughing it off – “Mr Hyde would be pleased…”
The Huangpu Concert Hall
The Doctor and Olivia sat backstage, quietly conversing. Occasional shadows passed by, caught like ghosts behind the curtains.
“You honestly believe he wanted to change, don’t you?” inquired the Doctor.
“Who wouldn’t?” asked Olivia, rhetorically The Doctor paused.
“You’re alright with everything, then? The TARDIS – it didn’t freak you out at all?”
“After the day I’ve had, I’ve become rather used to the strange and the impossible.” Olivia smiled.
The Doctor discreetly tweaked the settings of his sonic screwdriver and pressed it behind his back. “Why don’t you go on now?” he suggested. “The audience aren’t there yet. You could probably do with a bit of practise.”
The Doctor exchanged a nod with the man backstage and Olivia headed on casually. Sitting on the stall, she prepared herself as the Doctor crossed his fingers behind his back. Olivia tried to look on at the seats, but was confronted only by darkness. She held her fingers over the keys. Pachelbel Canon. On cue, she began a beautiful rendition; every note spot-on, and her hands and body flowing with each beat. She added a few creative features here and there; some additional scales up and down the keys to complement the bass on quieter parts. As she finished, she looked at the Doctor, who quietly pulled the sonic out from his pocket, pressing the button again.
Olivia looked forward, and the audience suddenly appeared. But they were rested, engaged: they’d been here the whole time, and the sounds of their clapping, cheering, suddenly resonated around the hall.
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Track 2 - Another Love (Tom Odell)
Popular song from around the time this was written, I think it adds a lot of nostalgia to the final scene. |
The Doctor’s Appartment
“I still don’t get it. What happened back there?”
“It’s called a perception filter,” explained the Doctor. “I used the sonic to cover up the audience – well, not exactly, just made them unnoticeable – well, not exactly, but if that helps, stick to that. They could see you, but you couldn’t see them. You performed. And now you know you can do it.” He smiled respectfully. “You can play to a live audience. This is the beginning of a long career for you, Olivia; you have a clear talent. Unless…”
Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Unless what?”
“Well, you could always… come with me.”
Olivia looked at him, analysing his ridiculously proposition. The Doctor stared back ashamedly.
“This is the start of my life, Doctor.”
“Exactly.” The Doctor turned the TARDIS key in the door. “It’s up to you how it begins.” He pushed the door open, the warm, red hue of the TARDIS reflecting onto the carpet. Olivia peaked back in. Back into that whole world, feeling the fresh scent of an alien’s home fill her up.
“I… can’t… I…”
“Or,” proposed the Doctor, pulling the key out of the door and holding it out. It glowed a fierce gold.
“You could have both.”
“I still don’t get it. What happened back there?”
“It’s called a perception filter,” explained the Doctor. “I used the sonic to cover up the audience – well, not exactly, just made them unnoticeable – well, not exactly, but if that helps, stick to that. They could see you, but you couldn’t see them. You performed. And now you know you can do it.” He smiled respectfully. “You can play to a live audience. This is the beginning of a long career for you, Olivia; you have a clear talent. Unless…”
Olivia raised an eyebrow. “Unless what?”
“Well, you could always… come with me.”
Olivia looked at him, analysing his ridiculously proposition. The Doctor stared back ashamedly.
“This is the start of my life, Doctor.”
“Exactly.” The Doctor turned the TARDIS key in the door. “It’s up to you how it begins.” He pushed the door open, the warm, red hue of the TARDIS reflecting onto the carpet. Olivia peaked back in. Back into that whole world, feeling the fresh scent of an alien’s home fill her up.
“I… can’t… I…”
“Or,” proposed the Doctor, pulling the key out of the door and holding it out. It glowed a fierce gold.
“You could have both.”