a night at the opera page 2

'Oh Professor where are we going to.' Ace said, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. She let a large yawn escape, her mouth opening wide and revealing her wisdom teeth. 

'Just taking us to a geo-stationary orbit, nothing to worry about.' The Doctor said, scratching the back of his mop of curls as he began to unfasten his ill fitting tuxedo. 

'Now there’s a funny thing, I used to fit into this tuxedo,' He said at length. He grabbed at the small mound of flab that had escaped over his trousers now that the uncomfortable cummerbund had been loosened. 'No use worrying about the past eh Ace? It’s all long gone now.' There was silence. He threw his mismatching Panama hat and umbrella expertly at the coat stand in the corner and began to hum some of the opera they had witnessed that night. 

'It’s all just a matter of time,' He said, laughing at the notion of what that expression meant to so many people in so many places. 

The Doctor flicked a number of switches and pressed on the relative buttons as the central column of the time rotor blinked into life, wheezing and whirring as the ship began to dematerialize. It’s less than finely tuned engines roared into life as the ship left the confines of Earth’s atmosphere. The shining bright blue planet appearing on the scanner on the far side of the control room.

The Doctor took off his tuxedo jacket and rolled up his sleeves, loosening off his bow tie, much to his relief. He danced around the hexagonal console and continued to manipulate the device. 

'There, that should do it,' He said, smiling at his own work. 'Now no bother old girl, we’ve had too nice an evening for any trouble, haven’t we Ace.' He rubbed the grey surface of the unit and awaited an answer. When it never came he looked around the pallid white room.  

Ace sat upright, her head tilted to one side, wrapped in her shall and fast asleep. The Doctor pocketed his hands and shook his head, smiling. 

'They can never keep up, can they old girl?' He said quietly, the hum and wheezing of the engines answering him back. Throwing his jacket over his shoulder, The Doctor moved around the console and over to his friend as quietly as possible. Taking her in his arms, he heaved heavily and lifted her up. Ace moaned gently and wrapped her arms around his neck, her eyes closed shut and her breathing gentle as she remained asleep. 

The Doctor clicked the door of Ace’s room closed gently behind him and smiled, rubbing at the back of his neck wearily. It had been a long, enjoyable day but he was feeling the effects of it now. 

'Fatigue on these old bones,' he said aloud, his voice echoing down the corridor.

His footsteps clicked on the floor as he headed back to the control room, mind lost amongst the majesty of the music, the atmosphere, the very essence of humanity he had witnessed that night. Of course he had long been fond of the human race, their sheer will and force by which they took everything in their existence by. Throughout the centuries and half dozen lives he had fought for them tirelessly, treating them like they were his own flesh and blood.

It was for nights like these that The Doctor adored them. Every aspect of their culture was fascinating to him, their sheer willingness to live and live well. Of course they were not all as noble and free minded as Wagner. There were plenty who defied logic, the small few who disgusted him so very much that at times he questioned why he even acknowledged them at all. For every Gandhi there was a Hitler. Every Lincoln there was an Attila. 

But these were all on such small scales that it was difficult to remain in perspective. Indeed, when the time finally came, or went depending on his trajectory, The Doctor often wondered how they had ever been able to leave the confines of Earth 1 at all. 

He had always said it though. To Ace, to Mel to anybody who ever cared to listen. The making of the human race was their first tentative steps into the complexities of the universe. To be suddenly so aware of their insignificance on the galactic forum was as sharp and harsh a wake up call any arrogant species could ever expect.

He reached the console room, the central column of the time rotor still rising and falling as regular as clockwork, and cast a sweeping look across the controls. He remembered the very first time humanity had appeared in the Galactic Nations chamber. As was customary galactic policy, the GN introduced all newly discovered, civilized planets at once, parading the new members on a stage before the already established dignitaries like some confounded beauty pageant.

Earth’s representative, one Edgar Churchill-Fountain was a twentieth generation diplomat from East Anglia, England. He strutted into the chamber, chin held high with all the clout and ambivalence that the human race would go on to become famous for throughout the stars only to be frightfully embarrassed when he was directed to his desk in the nosebleed seats.

'Scale makes fools of us all,' The Doctor said, his brogue rolling the words off with ease, the TARDIS silent in response. It had been a historic moment for the people of Earth. The experience, however, had not made them any worldlier to the darkest forces of existence.

It was easy for others to find humans so delightfully uncivilized and ignorant. But they had never experienced a night like tonight. To have all of human history at his beck and call was perhaps cheating just a little bit, it was enough to keep them just little bit closer and dearer to his hearts. Much more than his own people.

The smile dropped from The Doctor’s face at the thought of the Time Lords. Where humans had always needed him, the Time Lords, in their infinite wisdom, had only ever required his presence when they wanted to exploit his generous nature and flavor for curiosity. With one hand they brought him closer, nurturing his self-reliance and with the other they forced him away, cast him out as a dangerous renegade who should be made an example of at every opportunity. They angered and frustrated him all at once.

They were still his people. Far from perfect, he was still a Time Lord and Gallifrey still his home. As such he respected their judgment if indeed he did not agree with it.

'I disapprove of what you say but I’ll defend to the death your right to say it,' The Doctor announced to the empty room.

'Oh Evelyn, how right you were,' he said with a small laugh.

A flashing beacon began to illuminate on the control console, distracting the Doctor from his thoughts. He strolled around and examined the instruments, shutting off the warning signal. The time vortex was being distorted by an unnatural schism being projected from the surface of Mars. The Doctor scratched the back of his head, his brows narrowed as he wrestled with the implications, provocations and consternations all at once an event like this would create.

Without warning, the TARDIS lurched violently, The Doctor tripping backwards, clattering against the wall. The ship shuddered, a bright jolt of electricity shooting from the console, a shower of sparks cascading to the floor. The Doctor picked himself up and bounded to the controls, furiously working switches and buttons, attempting to bring the craft under control once again.

The door to the rest of the ship swung open and Ace staggered in, bleary eyed. The TARDIS buckled once more as she vaulted for the console, grabbing it tightly to try and stay upright.

'What’s happening Doctor!' she shouted, her usual gritty strength now missing from her voice.

'We’re caught in some sort of schism, disrupting the TARDIS’ trajection,' The Doctor said through gritted teeth.

'Something from Mars. She’s not responding, hold on Ace I’m going to bring her down.' He cranked a long, flat lever on the far side of the console, sweat running down his forehead, veins bulging in his temples and neck.

'Where are we?'

'Earth!' he managed to shout between flurries of motion.

'Russia, late sixties. Hold on!'

The ship juddered as the engines roared. There was a loud bang and suddenly, everything turned white.

to be continued..?

written by 
JONATHAN WHITELAW 
copyright 2012

artwork by 
COLIN JOHN 
copyright 2012
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