Fic: Dr Who and the Phrat-A-Mouses 2/2
Old piece cleaned up with the help of a friend (thanks drakky).
Title: Dr Who and the Phrat-A-Mouses part 2/2
Author: captain91
Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose
Rating: general
Spoilers: none
Length: 2621. Total Length: 4370
Disclaimer: Not mine, or I’d actually be able to afford the box sets. No copyright infringement intended... yada yada.
Summary: Rose goes to visit her mum, but the TARDIS has landed in the future and something is very wrong...
Part 1/2
Soon they were in tower block one, deep in conversation with the commanding officer, who was hurt, but now disheartened. He had worked in UNIT in the past and heard many stories of the Doctor’s supremacy, but never had had the privilege of meeting him in person. Until now.
The commanding officer, who was called Sergeant Smith, explained how the afore mentioned egg had dropped from the sky about six months previous to this date. About a month on from that the first of the creatures appeared. People were petrified, the army had to put them in underground bunkers and were fighting the monsters, dying.
“Hang on Sergeant,” said The Doctor in a rough, disapproving voice. “Are you telling me that you attacked these creatures entirely unprovoked? That is disgraceful. You are not from the nineteenth century-you are an advance military from the twenty-sixth century. I really would not have expected this from you.” He turned his back in disgust. He spoke again after a minute of awkward silence for the military present. “Take me to see the creature. Now!”
They were reluctant, but could see he would get his way, somehow. So it left them little choice but to obey.
They took him into a special bullet-proof corridor that led into a chamber of the same material. From there they could see out of a small window knocked out of the wall. It was explained that this room had been built to observe the creature without its knowing, to obtain more information.
The Doctor walked to the window and cautiously looked out into the courtyard below. Rose, instinctively, was stood beside him. The pair of them stared out in severe concentration, studying the creature that met their wide eyes.
The only way it could be described to a terrestrial being was as a pterodactyl. But it was a brighter green, and had a form of hand on the end of each wing. Large eyes glanced round, and just for a second, seemed to lock with The Doctor’s. In those large, watery eyes he saw a confusion and suffering-this creature meant to hurt no-one, but it had no choice in the company of these abominable creatures. It had to defend itself. It had to try to stop this feverish rain of ammunition onto its body, impact that was obviously doing irreparable damage.
The Doctor was horrified. “Stop this!” he shouted into an intercom connected to each soldier’s helmet. The firing lessened for a second, as a wave of confusion swept over them, but then it resumed, orders and instinct resuming authority over their minds.
The Doctor looked at the commanding officer, fire raging in his eyes. His voice was low, full of spite, malice and unspoken threats. Rose had never seen him so angry. “Stop this at once or I will have to stop all of you. Let me speak with this victim of your ignorance. If you don’t let me help you, there won’t be any of you left for me to help. Honestly, stupid apes! This creature landed here, and you decided to attack it. Is that your way of showing the universe your great and bountiful planet? If that’s the way you want to play you’re going to get hurt soon - the rest of the universe won’t want to share with savages. Remember who you are and that this is merely a visitor you should treat with respect in future,” he said as he turned his back in disgust on the troops. “I will help you if you will be gracious and apologise.”
Sergeant Smith stuttered for a few seconds in half-hearted defence, not wishing to have any part in this action (he felt sure it would result in the death of his entire regiment). Then though he was forced under the strain of The Doctor’s harsh, unrelenting gaze. Under that any human would break.
Sergeant Smith turned to another officer and meekly instructed him to set up the megaphones to speak with the ‘monster’, as he called it. He then turned towards the intercom and instructed all officers to prepare for a break in fire.
In under a minute they were ready. The Doctor spoke through a handset, watching the alien from the window of a firing squad. The fire broke and he immediately started to attempt a parlay. He could only hope that it was in fact an intelligent entity, rather than a beast.
“I request parlay with this entity under division fifteen of the Shadow proclamation, the Sygoraxic empire and the Raxacoricofallapatorius law of interplanetary communications. My name is The Doctor and I am here to help. If you can understand me, please identify your species and native planet.”
For almost a minute the creature sat silent, eyes fixed onto the doctor’s, almost as if in telepathic conversation. If it had not been for The Doctor’s doubly disheartened face, Rose and the rest of the regiment would have insisted he was.
Finally the creature spoke, a deep, strong voice being expelled from his mouth. “I am a phrat-a-mouse, native planet Jurassama. I do not want war. I do not wish to hurt these people, but they have attacked me. I had to defend myself. When they took my child I did wish to hurt, maim or kill them-but wouldn’t any mother? I’m sorry.”
The Doctor looked out, trying to keep the sympathy from his eyes; it must not know it was winning him round. “Why have you come here?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded emotionless. “Did you lose the egg in the stellar and follow it in?”
“No, that egg was not ours” said the phrat-a-mouse flatly. Then it said no more for a few seconds, probably while it was collecting its thoughts.
The Doctor was a little scared, but as it seemed to have been destroyed he saw no reason for immediate panic.
Meanwhile Sergeant Smith was whispering in The Doctor’s ear. He explained that on the last communication with other countries, before the radio waves crashed, at least ten countries had some.
Then the phrat-a-mouse continued. “We came down to help these Earthlings. My siblings and I have watched their planet self-destructing for so long. We wanted to help. We can reverse the global warming, take the unnatural gases from the atmosphere and try to stop it from returning. We only want to help, but these creatures have merely hindered and harmed myself and the others.”
Sergeant Smith stepped forward and spoke to the creature, more than a trace of guilt in his voice. “Are you harmed badly Mr phrat-a-mouse, Sir? We have people here that can help you, make you better.” As he continued his voice started to break, “Please, can you ever forgive us? We were just scared, our civilians panicked and we were merely trying to protect them. I’m so sorry.”
“I understand fear well, and I know why you did this. We attacked people that tried to help us once. I am not badly hurt, except for a hole in my wing. I have a telepathic connection with my brothers and sisters. Only one is hurt, a hole in their wing. They are in the place you call China. You need to get message there fast, for they are intending upon dissection.”
The sergeant explained tearfully that the radio lines were down, they could not get a message there. However the phrat-a-mouse said that he could fly there in just a few minutes with a human passenger if one would be brave enough to fly him. The sergeant said he would, and soon he was taking off on the back of what appeared to be a prehistoric beast.
* * *
While diplomatic talks continued between soldiers, Rose looked around and saw several with bloodied bandages tied inexpertly to wounds. It was clear that this had been done in the rush of battle. With a quick word to the busy Doctor she began organizing the troops.
She cleared the throat. “Right, I see we have several of you that are injured - what has been done about this?” she looked around, and one man stood and told her the medical crews were almost all dead or badly wounded from trying to get between the two tower blocks. They had dealt wit dressing wounds as best they could, but had many injured men on the highest floors. Without looking back rose gathered a large party of the wounded troops together and set off for the make-shift medical bay on the higher floors. It was a slow procession, both because of the injuries, and fear of the phrat-a-mouse, but Rose go them to the medical bay feeling considerably calmer.
The little medical knowledge she had picked up from TV dramas really did help to treat the basic wounds. In many case though she was in over her head due to the modern equipment they had. With perseverance she repaired most wounds to the stage at which they could be of assistance if necessary though.
* * *
As the phrat-a-mouse drew near the military began to fire upon him, and so upon Sergeant Smith. Luckily though his radio still worked on short distance, and the fire, and attempt at the other phrat-a-mouse’s restraint stopped. Once all was explained the surgeons from area fifty-two that were there set about fixing up the phrat-a-mouse.
Sergeant Smith, still astride the phrat-a-mouse, that was flying a couple of hundred miles an hour, was yelling in delight. They landed, and with a radio in and explained to them too.
Sergeant Smith set off to the next base, and so did the other phrat-a-mouse with a member of their military.
Within a couple of hours all bases knew. Peace with the phrat-a-mouses was gained.
* * *
The phrat-a-mouses all dropped of their shaking passengers in London, before gathering out at sea for a discussion. There they also drank, for the phrat-a-mouses digestive system can consume only salt water.
While waiting the soldiers had their first proper meal in months, prepared in just a few minutes by some tweaks (jiggery-pokery as The Doctor called it) to the kitchen stoves. They ate ravenously as the meat and vegetables were generously served up to them.
Then, after what seemed like an eternity, but was probably little over an hour, a phrat-a-mouse returned, this time greeted warmly, if still nervously by the fighting corps. “We have spoken at length, and have at last decided that we will still help you. We have called in many more of our family-they will be here soon.”
The Doctor stepped forward and spoke quietly, yet firmly to it. He said that the process would kill the creatures, and he would not permit it. However the phrat-a-mouse’s speech of helping a race that was still in infancy, just like the infamous Timelords did won him over.
They parted company with an affectionate hug. A phrat-a-mouse The Doctor had previously thought was just a myth, but it was going to save Earth. In his eyes they were all heroes.
The last words it spoke to The Doctor were solemn and barely breathed. “You know what to do Doctor.” And he did.
* * *
The large phrat-a-mouse soared over London. A loud shrill cry that shattered some fragile glass, rocket from its mouth and echoed all around the world. The strong call made the earth vibrate. From what appeared to be out in space a hundred or more flew in, filling the air.
A loud cheer came from the army, running joyfully throughout the city. They were yelling at all the sentries that it was safe and the aliens were friends.
Cautiously people emerged in doorways, windows to watch the spectacle of the giant birds. As they flew over-head it was now clear that they meant no harm. As the minutes passed people became braver still and walked out into the roads to watch.
The thick smog that had gathered over the world though the past couple of centuries was clearing. They could see the sun! For many of them it was their first time. And it was so bright-they had to cover their eyes for protection.
The air was feeling clearer to breathe too. The greenhouse gases were diminishing, they could feel it in just a few seconds. Each breath no longer hurt; the sulphur dioxide was gone, it wasn’t burning the inside of their lungs any more.
Further away there were more phrat-a-mouses flying over the sea. They swooped down low, a whistle coming from their beaks. (It was silent to humans but drove many of the animals mad.) The deep coating of oil that had covered the sea lifted, floated in fine wisps, like mist, into their beaks.
At the poles of the world there were many breathing out hard-an icy breath onto the sea. It began to refreeze the almost entirely melted poles of the world. Large icy boulders formed and grouped together. The world was getting back to how it should be.
At last the atmosphere was back to how it had been in 1900. The phrat-a-mouses, that has been feared by so many and almost been killed, had replenished our world to allow us to start again.
* * *
Meanwhile The Doctor had made a giant box over a kilometre square and several metres high with the help of some very confused humans. It was sat in the shallows of the sea. It had a smooth base so even with immense weight inside it would be easy to move.
The phrat-a-mouses flew in from all directions towards the box. Many of them landed on the sea and sat like ducks, just one landing on the ground. It seemed very old around the eyes, and ill. Nevertheless it held itself tall with tremendous grace. Around its eyes were fine lines of gold amongst the feathers; it resembled a pair of glasses.
“Doctor, we have cleaned up this world for these people, but we can do it only this once. Care for them Doctor, see that they look after it here,” said the phrat-a-mouse.
A member of the crowd walked forward towards the creature, obviously scared. “I am a scientist on this humble planet,” he said shakily. “I want to thank you for all you have done for us. I promise my team and I will work tirelessly to produce a fuel that has absolutely no emissions. We will never forget what you and your family have done for us sir. If there is ever anything we can do for you just say.” He bowed low to the creature.
The elegant phrat-a-mouse looked back at him with its intelligible eyes. “Thank you for your kind offer friend, but we are dying. The bad vapours of your world have been absorbed into our bodies. They are toxic to us-”
“No, there has to be something we can do to help you,” blurted out the man tears welling in his eyes.
“-There is young Son-Of-Earth. Let us die. Then we want you to use our bodies for research. Our bodies will make emission free fuels. But don’t just use them up, learn to make more.” He bowed low, then raised a long, slender wing and touched to his forehead. He looked at the soldiers all lined up there, now seeing him as friend, not foe. Each and every one saluted back to him.
Then he turned and climbed into the crate with the rest of his kind. Everyone knew they would never get back out. They had given their lives for the good of the human race.
I don’t think we’ll mess up this time, do you?