Crossed Wires [3/9]
Crossed Wires
by ErtheChilde
‘You’re trying to say that everything you do is reasonable, and everything I do is inhuman. Well, I’m afraid your judgement’s at fault.’
DISCLAIMER & OTHER WARNINGS
The door of the TARDIS clicked shut behind him as the Doctor stepped out onto the alien moon and glanced around for some indication of where he had landed. An empty vista of desert on one side, juxtaposed with hills and low mountain ranges on the other.
The ship’s databanks hadn’t given him the name of the moon or even the system they had found themselves in, but that wasn’t unusual. There were quite a few places in the universe that had been undiscovered or the people hadn’t yet developed a concept of naming their home system.
According to the readings, he and Rose had come out of the Vortex about six thousand years in her future, but in an entirely different section of the galaxy. Despite his usual avoidance of using his temporal senses, there was a nagging at the back of his mind that suggested there was more to landing here than just an inconvenient tractor beam. As he had told Rose once before, only a very powerful tractor beam should be able to trap the TARDIS, which meant that for some reason, the TARDIS had decided to let them get stuck here.
He doubted it had anything to do with her earlier annoyance at him. Even half-blind to the eddies of time he could feel something coming - like a fixed event, only more fluid. Rather like something was meant to happen here, but the event hadn’t become set yet. Once it did, however, the path of this particular place would diverge into two utterly different probability trees.
Not a good sign, he thought with a frown. Moments in time like that usually meant he was about to be dragged into the machinations of history. Considering he didn’t know anything about where he was, it was very likely this adventure wouldn’t have an easy resolution to it.
He flexed the fingers of his right hand, frowning at how empty it felt.
It wasn’t the first time since he’d met Rose that he’d embarked on an adventure without her, but it was the first time she happened to be on the same planet as him at the time but wasn’t coming along.
He didn’t like it.
Could go back and get her, he thought. After all, what difference could having her along make? So they couldn’t understand each other - they still probably communicated better than most people of the same species or language at any given time.
Better not, he decided a moment later.
The moon where they’d landed wasn’t exactly human friendly. It was colder and drier than Rose was used to, and the gravity a bit higher. That alone would throw a human’s sense of balance out of whack and make walking an effort. He only dimly noticed it, but Rose wouldn’t appreciate it.
Probably complain about gaining weight, he rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
More importantly, the atmosphere here wasn’t the best for human lungs. There was a thick, smoggy quality to it that made it hard to breathe. He was just shy of having to use his respiratory bypass, but it was manageable. As long as he didn’t have to make a run for it, he’d be fine.
Working the sonic out of his pocket, he set it to find the origin of any telepathic or magnetic signals in the area. Those would lead him to whatever was causing the language barrier - and if he was lucky, the tractor beam as well - and he could turn it off.
Or reason with it, if it happened to be a creature. Such things had been known to happen before. He was actually hoping that wasn’t the case, because sometimes it was just easier to reason with machines than it was sentient species. Especially if the sentient species knew what they were doing and didn’t see the point of stopping when he asked nicely.
The sonic whirred, indicating a possible origin point coming from the north-east, and he set to following it.
He ended up following what appeared to be a road of some sort, judging by the well-traveled nature of it. There were many sets of tracks along it, mostly made by hooves, but occasionally a tire track from a large vehicle.
They still use beasts of burden but have the technology to create a language field, he mused. Bit of a contradiction, these people. Whoever they are.
He noticed a town or village of some sort down in one of the valleys; it was laid out on a grid pattern and almost completely square in its lay-out. Every street appeared to criss-cross at a right angle, and no house was bigger than any other.
Sticklers for order, he noted. Never really a good sign, that.
Luckily he didn’t have to make any detours down into the village. The sonic led him up another rough trail and toward the foot of one of the mountain ranges. Eventually, the signal he was tracking led him to a palatial structure that was built into the side of one of the mountains.
The place was towering, and built with the same austere, mathematical precision as the village had been, just on a more imposing scale and with better quality materials. The place conveyed a sense of majesty, as well as imperiousness.
Whatever was causing the language issues was probably inside, but getting in was going to be a problem.
Even from the distance he could see the place was heavily guarded. And not by any kind of humanoid creatures, either.
The aliens of this moon appeared to be something like a cross between a panda and a chollima. They were completely covered with white fur, except for their round ears, bulbous noses and the palms of their clawed hands. These were the same black colour of their eyes, which stared out of ursine faces. Their wet noses glistened with something like mucous - possibly a result of the smoggy air - and their split lips opening over large teeth - flat, not sharp, so at least they weren’t carnivores which was a good sign.
They all had the same shockingly thick, white hair worn in something like a knot at the top of their heads, creating the illusion of a third ear. Although they wore long, intricately embroidered robes, he could make out hooves instead of feet beneath their clothing. They had wings, too, but they were so delicate looking they had probably devolved past their usefulness - in fact, they had probably never been used for flight but to store warmth in the hot season to warm themselves when it grew cool.
They were also carrying halberds.
Not exactly a welcoming group, this.
What exactly did he intend to do now?
He usually favored the direct approach in situations like this, or bluffing his way in with the psychic paper, but that wouldn’t work in this instance. He’d tried it when he went to get the chalk board for Rose earlier, but every thought he’d tried to get out in English had showed up in Gallifreyan. The language barrier was obviously affecting psychic waves as well.
He made a quick circuit of the building, looking for any way in without being seen, but there were guards everywhere. No cameras though, he noticed, which meant he would be able to sonic the feed or cause a distraction with a minor incendiary device.
Maybe there was someway to get in underground? Of only he could -
Snap!
He whirled around, and froze.
Apparently, he’d been noticed.
The alien guards made no indication of moving toward him, simply surrounding him. Possibly they were waiting for orders, which meant the people he was dealing with were a rule-abiding, disciplined bunch.
He considered their slow, graceful movements and their intricate style of dress.
Honor-bound society, he guessed. One way to find out.
Holding his palms outward in a gesture that was almost universally known as supplication by the 81st century, he bowed his head and shoulders forward.
The aliens shifted at this, their body language conveying something like surprise. While he still had their attention, he slowly showed them that he was unarmed, turning in a circle and showing the inside of his coat.
It seemed to be working, at any rate, because the largest of the lot stepped forward and performed a similar bow to the Doctor.
Although he noticeably did not show a gesture of supplication.
Instead he barked out an order or a question, and the Doctor sighed. It seemed he wasn’t done using his native tongue.
He started telling them that he couldn’t understand them and they likely couldn’t understand him, considering no one understood Gallifreyan any more, and did they happen to have drawing board he might be able to -
He stopped when he noticed that the aliens had become agitated. No, that was putting it lightly.
The leader was barking more questions at him, while one of the smaller ones had brought out what looked like a tiny digital tablet and was aiming it at the Doctor as he spoke.
Perhaps their translation software was experiencing problems too? Well, good thing he was there, then, he’d be able to sort them out, if they’d just -
There was an angry squelching noise from the computer device, and the group of them became even more excited. Some of them were gesturing at him with their clawed hands.
And now they were all pointing their halberds at him.
Think I’m in a bit of trouble, he thought dimly.
He could either go peaceably with them - they would no doubt bring him before some kind of governing authority and he might be able to figure out what was going on. Of course, doing that there was a chance that the entire adventure might go south and he’d end up in prison. That would definitely make him late and Rose would worry.
Or, he could make a run for it. Go back to the TARDIS and come up with a strategy with Rose as to what to do. They wouldn’t necessarily need to talk in order to come up with a plan.
A plan for what, though?
It wasn’t as if the aliens were hostile - at least not as much as some he could name. Hell, there were human civilizations he’d encountered that would have tried to spear him by now.
No, best to go with a low-energy solution until he knew what kind of situation he was dealing with.
He made a show of showing he was cooperating, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. He held out his wrists to them, and their excited energy seemed to fade. As if seeing him behave calmly was unexpected yet appreciated.
Not used to people coming quietly, obviously. Oh, well, take me to your leader, he thought with grim humour.
All was going well, until one of the aliens nudged his jacket to one side while trying to put him into his cuffs and the sonic tumbled out. Upon seeing the device, the mood suddenly changed from the solemn and routine process to suspicious frenzy.
The leader began demanding something of him, gesturing to the sonic, but when the Doctor reached for it to show them it wasn’t a weapon in the way they thought it was, they all began shouting at him.
Meaty paws held him from behind, while others roughly dragged his jacket off him and started patting down his trousers. While trying to tell them to calm down, he saw the glint of something with a vial attached to it and his senses snapped to attention.
Oh, not happening, he thought fiercely at the sight of what was definitely some kind of tranquilizer. Bad things happened when he got knocked out.
With a grunt of effort, he tried to hurtle himself past the two aliens closest to him, who’d left a gap between their arms and weapons. They clearly hadn’t expected the speed or suddenness of his movement, and for a moment he thought he was going to make it -
There was a pricking sensation in his neck, just above the collar of his coat and he swore.
Darkness was already overtaking his vision before he hit the ground.