Doctor Who Christmas Special: Telling a Story in Roleplaying

I've noted before that Doctor Who: Adventures In Time and Space is, in comparison to other role-playing systems, very plot-heavy. The exciting finale of a Doctor Who story is usually a character crisis, rather than a "boss" to be defeated in classic roleplaying rounds of physical combat.

This leads to a rather unusual dilemma. As a GM, how much can you script plot and outcomes, when what you really want is to allow the players to feel that they are roleplaying towards an ending that they have created themselves? This question became even more pertinent during our own Alternative Doctor Who Christmas Special game.

That is, after all the beauty of pen-and-paper roleplaying. At the beginning of October, I wrote this letter to Edge Magazine:

What I think pen-and-paper gaming offers over videogaming - as technology currently stands - is that the direction the game takes, the places journeyed to, the characters met and the adventures had, is entirely the result of an organic agreement between the players and the Gamemaster ... There is no detailed plot design up-front, because there is no guarantee that the players will act in the "right" way to follow the plot. Furthermore if a GM really needs to steer wandering players back on track, this can be achieved with natural narrative methods, rather than an invisible wall

I tend not to prepare too much detail in my plots. I have a basic structure and a few ways I can imagine the story resolving. At one point, my comparatively inexperienced players were looking to me for helpful hints to resolve the situation, but I told them, "oh I haven't actually written a way out of this problem! I'm just waiting to see what solutions you come up with."

But, the few dramatic moments that I do prepare are generally essential for the ongoing story or campaign and it's hard to know how much is "too much" when providing GM-controlled narrative. In the penultimate game before the Alternative Doctor Who Christmas Special, I really wanted the players to meet the villain face-to-face, because it would reveal that The Doctor is already known by the enemy and that his arrival was expected. In an alternative-history Nazi occupation, that should set some alarm bells ringing for players and characters alike.

However, I had real trouble getting the players to this scenario. Firstly, a senior NPC summons the players to report (since they were in disguise as soldiers at this point). Assuming (correctly) that they would get rumbled, they opted to abscond and decided that driving the nearby fuel tanker into the castle and detonating it would be a good ploy. They proceeded to hijack the truck and began driving it. I brought four armed troopers out to arrest them. They decided not to submit.

The Doctor (who, in this game, has Telekinesis) rolled a nearby petrol barrel at the guards and succeeded in knocking them down. The other player hit the gas and tried to run over the remaining soldier. A couple of soldiers managed to recover their wits and a: fired on the player in the drivers' seat, taking off about 50% health and b: shot out the front tyre on the truck, forcing a crash. Even after that, the players were still up for a scrap.

 

Players generally cannot resist barrels

In the end, I narrated the approach of even more soldiers, alerted by the sounds of shouting and gunfire. I try hard to avoid narrating any action or event that takes control away from the players. This approach involves introducing seemingly unstoppable odds that leave the players with little choice.

In the Alternative Doctor Who Christmas Special, I had a situation in which the two Doctors ended up strapped into chairs in twin machines, as part of a Dalek plan to eradicate all versions of the Doctor. The players had, thankfully, split into two parties so I had them where I wanted them, so to speak. In the end, once each Doctor was near the chair, I narrated that the Doctor was pulled, suddenly and irresistibly into the seat. Within the Doctor Who: Adventures in Time & Space system I could have easily made this action a forced mental attack, resisted by the player characters Resolve and Ingenuity or Presence.

But had the resistance been successful it would have robbed the players of the dramatic ending and the revelation of the Dalek's master plan. In this case, I felt it was better to present the Doctor's entrapment as a situation for the players to work out how to resolve, rather than an attack in itself which the player would try to resist.

It's always a tricky balance. Usually I don't worry too much if the stories don't resolve the way I had expected. Where I do come unstuck is that I like to drop little foreshadowing hints for each player about bits of plot that will affect them in later adventures, but sometimes you just need the players to walk into things.

The Christmas Special, however, required some extra handling: I needed a plot that explained why I had two (very different) first-generation Doctors at the same time and why Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart didn't recognise either of them. Therefore the ending was largely fixed, I just needed to find a subtly way to guide the players to it in a satisfactory way.

In the end, the biggest problem was the need to wrap the story up in a single session. Usually I can just wait for a suitable cliffhanger and then cue the music (which I do actually play!) but because the group of players and the scenario were unique for the Christmas Special, I had to get the stories resolved and both Doctors back to their own dimensions.

All the players seemed to have a good time though, which was the most important thing. I worry sometimes that guiding the story too much might make it feel less like a game and more like storytime, but I think so far the balance seems to be working.

Alternative Doctor Who Christmas Special, RPG-style

Not had the chance to blog for a while, due to holidays and other awesome things, but rest assured that work is progressing on the continuation of the Nazi-robot epic, Das Metallreich, and the new episodes of the ongoing game campaign with The Doctor, Esther, Lim, Stephen and Knute, which I'm calling "War and Peacehaven".

There's been some discussion in the games about an RPG Christmas special for our respective game-Doctors. The idea is to try and get a date where we can play and one-off, one-day adventure special, crossing over the timelines of both Doctors and producing an epic and seasonal adventure! This is a great opportunity to invite some other friends who might not want to play the game every couple of weeks, but are up for a "taste" of tabletop roleplaying.

 

May or may not be representative of included plot

Plans are in process, but in the meantime, here is the plot setup I've distributed to the invitees...

North Pole, 1977

'Twas the night before Christmas and all through Plaisted Station
not a creature was stirring...

Apart from Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart and a team of U.N.I.T. troops. Lethbridge-Stewart has been dragged out of retirement after only a year and he isn't happy about it.

He's unhappy that Dr. Giddings, who has requested him personally, keeps ranting about Alien interference in his experiments. He's unhappy that they appear to be investigating the wrong Pole. He's unhappy that he's had to fly out to the Polar Scientific Research Station "Plaisted" on Christmas Eve.

Finally, he's particularly unhappy that a freak snowstorm is likely to leave them cut-off until New Year...

Andromeda Sector, Far Future

War has raged throughout the sector between the Independent Colonies and the Great Empire.

When an Independent Dreadnought is left drifting after a major conflict, the surviving crew release an S.O.S., while Imperial Intelligence receive a tip off that the ship may contain information vital to the war effort.

Ransacking a ship with survivors is against the articles of war, but the Empire have no wish to lose face or the war. Luckily there are plenty of mercenaries for hire who can murder the survivors and retrieve the information without ever implicating the Great Empire...

ROME: ?BC

The dominance of the Roman war machine is felt throughout known civilisation. Rome is expanding, by conquest and by influence. It is a time of great superstition but also promising great progress and technological advancement.

Into this world comes a fearsome creature of terrifying proportions, laying waste to whole settlements and slaughtering the inhabitants.

The people wait for a saviour: born of a virgin on December 25th. They wait for a god to free them from their terror. They wait for a warrior to protect them from The Beast. They wait for Mithras...


Meanwhile, The Doctors have been plucked out of their existing travels and pulled into a twisted and macabre plan of the most terrifying and deadly scope...

Doctor Who (Game A) Session Write-Up - On Thin Ice, Part 2

N.B. What follows is a prose narration of the events that took place in the game session. If you like, it can be regarded as a kind of Doctor Who fan-fiction, except that all the events are driven by occurrences in-game and is presented in first-draft quality. It is not intended to fully recreate any events or characters from any previous Doctor Who episode, book, radio series or comic, with the exception of some iconic villains. Even The Doctor is a reinvention. Perhaps how the Doctor may appear in a different reality. It cannot, therefore, be wrong on any canonical continuity. It exists within itself and is presented purely for reading pleasure and to inform role-playing experiences. Thank you :)



Please note that this continues on from a previous episode. Please click here to read the previous chapters.

Carter Alsop worked alone in his office, his desk illuminated by a single lamp leaning over his neatly ordered papers. He pored over scans and deep resonance images of the shapes in the ice block.

He discounted the animal shape entirely. It was far too modern to be of any use to the museum. However, the human figure was intriguing. Alsop was concerned that there was no way to tell what era the body was from, but in any case, a perfectly preserved body rescued from ice that had lain undisturbed for the best part of a century was bound to be a popular exhibit.

He turned his attention back to the sarcophagus shadow with a sigh. That was the real prize, he thought. He felt a moment's distress at the thought of having to give it up and not be able to display it. But, he reasoned, there was so much more where that came from!

His thoughts returned to his studies and he leaned in close to the desk, studying the images for any more clues he might have missed.

The curator's concentration was so intense – and the office around him so dark – that he had no awareness whatsoever of the figure moving behind him in the darkness, stealthily and carefully closing in on his position.

The first Carter Alsop knew of the intruder was the feel of a deathly-cold hand over his mouth, stifling his scream.

He realised, with a mix of excitement and terror, that the hand felt distinctly scaly: They'd come back!

 

Chapter Four – Cold Blooded

The lizard's eyes flicked open. It spat at The Doctor, Knute and Lim, “Get your hands off me you damn dirty apes!”

Without warning, Knute delivered another powerful punch to the creature's face. There was a sickening crack and the creature slumped back on the floor, completely still.

“Why did you do that to her?” The Doctor demanded, outraged.

“It was hissing at me like some kind of snake!” Knute replied, confused.

Of course, thought The Doctor, he couldn't understand her.

The Doctor looked down upon the broken Lizard face. It was a Reptilia Sapiens. Commonly referred to by historians as Silurians. Sometimes incorrectly referred to as Homo Reptilia, which was a tasteless mistake to make – certainly in front of a Silurian. The lizards on this planet evolved into an intelligent and industrial people long before the monkeys started hitting each other with jawbones and many of them disliked any confusion of their kind with the apes.

Two intelligent species sharing a common cradle, the Doctor thought, remembering her history lessons. Whenever both species became aware of that fact it invariably led to trouble.

She was about to speak to Knute more when several figures appeared in the gallery archways on either side of them. In each archway stood a Silurian warrior, staring at them with deadly intent and aiming a nasty-looking rifle in their direction.

Next to one of the Silurian warriors stood to a tall, graceful Silurian female. Her armour was tinted a different shade to set her apart from the footsoldiers and she wore no combat visor.

She stepped forward and stopped short as she saw the dead warrior lying on the ground. She hissed at the group, “what have you done!?”

Knute's fists tightened again. The Doctor could see he was preparing to strike at these newcomers and spoke quickly and diplomatically before Knute could turn the situation into a bloodbath. “We're very sorry, brave warrior, it was a mistake!”

The Silurian leader raised a hand and the other warriors slightly lowered their weapons.

Knute saw this action and relented. His charge dissipated into merely a short threatening stagger toward the leader. The Silurian leader looked like they were waiting for a further reason to not resume the attack.

“You are Silurians, are you not?” The Doctor said, “what are you doing here?”

“You have killed one of our s-s-sisters-s-s!” The Silurian leader hissed back, “we are asking the questions! You will pay for your crimes.”

“We're really very sorry for that!” The Doctor insisted, “she came out of nowhere and took us by surprise.” She pleaded for peace, “is there any chance we can start over?”

“Liar!” the Silurian yelled, “we saw you chas-s-sing her as if she was prey.” The Silurian spat the word prey as if it was distasteful.

“She had killed a guard downstairs. We had no choice but to investigate,” The Doctor told her.

The Silurian's lip curled in distaste. She hissed, “That s-s-stinking ape had no business-s-s being on the surface of this planet at all! He deserved to die, as do all apes-s-s!”

“I think you are wrong, there,” said The Doctor, taking a risk to stand up to this warrior, “it is their planet now, their civilisation. You are the intruder, here, so let's talk it through. Where have you been, what are you doing here now?”

“Enough of this!” the Silurian retorted, “what have you done with the war hero? Where is Commander Valta?”

The Doctor hesitated for a moment, thinking. These soldiers were looking for another Silurianm then? But why would they have any better idea where this Silurian was any more than they did? A flash of inspiration occurred to The Doctor and she announced, “I can take you to him.”

“What are you doing, Doctor?” Lim implored, “Who is Commander Valta?”

The Doctor placed a reassuring hand on Lim's arm. “I think,” The Doctor told her, “I may have just figured out what the other shape in the ice might be.”

“Don't play games-s-s with us, puny ones-s-s,” the leader threatened. “You will return our glorious war leader to us, unharmed. If you are lying to us-s-s, be sure that we will kill you! ”

<   >

Esther and Stephen were idling in the lab, waiting for the others to return. Esther leant against the wall, studying her fingernails, while Stephen made various efforts to study the Sarcophagus further. Occasionally he used the Geiger Counter to take further readings, but didn't come to any further conclusions.

Esther smiled slightly as she saw the Doctor's face reappear at the window in the door leading to the lab. She waved, secretly pleased at their return, even it all it promised was a relief from the monotony.

Her smile faded as she realised that The Doctor, Lim and Knute were stepping into the room with their hands raised in the air. They were pushed into the room at gun-point.

Following them in with an air of authority was a tall, slender woman in metal armour. Her face was … Esther thought she must be seeing things. Her face was green and scaly, like she had the complexion of a Komodo Dragon.

They all stood and stared at each other for a moment, an impasse.

Esther pointed at the lizard-woman. “Is she any relation to her?” she asked, indicating Lim, “she's weird as well.”

“No,” said The Doctor, firmly, “well done on freeing the sarcophagus from the ice though.”

Esther shrugged, “we don't know what we're doing with it though, we couldn't get it open.”

The Silurian leader gasped as she set her eyes upon the precious casket. She moved quickly over to it and caressed it, feeling its warmth. “Ah,” she exclaimed, “the res-s-sting-place of our glorious hero. This! This is the leader that will surely lead us to victory over the FILTHY apes.”

The Doctor muttered under her breath, “perhaps this wasn't such a good idea.”

The Leader clicked her fingers and a warrior pushed The Doctor forward, over to the sarcophagus. The warrior removed a triangular device from a pouch around its waist and handed it to the Leader.

The Leader's forked tongue darted out and licked at her lips as she took hold of the device and placed it into an etched triangular shape on the top of the Sarcophagus. The three corners of the device extended and spun, as if retracting bolts from the deep recesses of the casket, whirring and clicking.

“Well that's just cheating,” Esther said, frustrated at the amount of time they had spent trying to open the Sarcophagus. She folded her arms, crossly, “how were we supposed to know it needed a key?”

As the lock finished opening, The Leader impatiently tossed the lid of the casket aside and gazed in wonder upon the contents.

Steam billowed out of the casket, revealing the figure of a large Silurian male, dressed finely and laid in state in the Sarcophagus, military decorations upon his chest.

Everybody in the room held a deep breath, humans, lizards and aliens alike.

The eyes of the figure in the casket fluttered open and he smiled to be greeted by the familiar face of one of his own kind.

“You have found me and awoken me,” the Silurian's deep voice intoned, as he stepped out of the casket, “I thank you greatly, my friend.”

The Silurian Leader knelt down before him, “welcome, Supreme Commander Valta. I am Commander Kylen and I am your humble servant. We have awoken you so that you may lead our people to their rightful place and reclaim our planet from the apes.”

Supreme Commander Valta listened to this, then looked around at the room full of Silurians and their captives. A shadow fell across his face, “no, no, no, NO!” He shouted at Commander Kylen, “do none of you remember what I was trying to do? I wished to broker peace with the new civilisation that was growing on this planet. You can't undo all my work now!”

Suddenly The Doctor approached Supreme Commander Valta. “Hello,” she said, cheerily, offering a hand, “it's so nice to meet someone on the same page as us!”

“Silence!” yelled Commander Kylen and struck the Doctor across the face, knocking her to the floor, “you do not speak to our Supreme Hero!”

“Peace, Kylen!” Valta ordered, stepping between her and The Doctor. Valta offered The Doctor a hand to stand up. It was curious that Lim and The Doctor seemed to understand their language.

“How long have you been asleep?” Lim asked.

“I have no frame of reference,” Valta replied, “When I was put into this chamber of healing, we were trying to find a way to live peacefully alongside the new ape … sorry … hu-man settlements which were springing up all over, growing out from their cave-dwellings. I'm afraid I have no way of measuring how long I was asleep, but I feel as though it has been for a long time.”

“Well it seems that there has been a huge misunderstanding,” The Doctor announced. “And we can all be happy and get along?” she added, hopefully. Commander Kylen snarled.

“You don't understand, Kylen,” Valta said, seeing that the other soldiers were grumbling and not at all convinced by his words of peace, “we have to find a way to live peacefully with this new species!”

Esther, Stephen and Knute, of course, didn't following any of this, given their inability to speak the language of the lizards. Lim saw their bewildered faces amid this cacophony of hissing and took pity on them by calling out a running translation of what was being said. Lim didn't actually translate anything, of course, but the universal language adapter she had bought at the spaceport (patent pending; works on all spiral arm worlds and Northern and Southern Phirralax) allowed her to simply relay what she was hearing and the humans heard her speech as normal.

It wasn't enough to mollify Knute, whose head was racing with all of these events, the strange creatures and now being held prisoner. Impulsively, he spun around, swinging his fist wide in order to floor his captor with a single devastating Haymaker.

With her quick reflexes, Lim spotted Knute becoming tense and building power for a punch. Lim thought the negotiations seem to be moving in a positive direction and didn't want to see Knute exacerbate the situation. Mindless of the rifle pointed at her own back, Lim shot out her hand, stretching her arm out over several feet to try to snatch Knute's balled fist from out of the air.

She wasn't quick enough, however, and Knute's knuckles crashed against the Silurian's metal mask. The mask fractured into three pieces and clattered to the floor as the soldier staggered backward.

The Silurian who was guarding Lim raised her rifle and made to shoot Knute before he could attack any further.

The Doctor shouted out, “Stop! Don't shoot, please! He doesn't understand your language!”

Commander Kylen grudgingly echoed The Doctor with some roughly barked orders and the Silurian lowered its rifle. The other Silurian wiped away the remaining broken pieces of mask from her face and smashed the butt of her rifle between Knute's shoulder blades. He staggered forward.

While this distraction was going on, Esther was attempting to put her plan into action; she would take the leader hostage. She crept around the side of the sarcophagus, trying to sneak up on Commander Kylen. She was no match for the lizard's fine senses, however, and Commander Kylen's head snapped around to stare at Esther as she approached. Esther realised her plan had only been considered up to this point and she stumbled, staggered into Kylen and sending both of them toppling over.

It was clear the situation was descending into chaos. Valta appealed for peace, saying, “Stop this, all of you, please!”

Esther, too, decided to change tack and appeal for calm. Her cries fell upon deaf ears as, even if the Silurian warriors were in the mood to be talked out of their rage by an ape, they could not understand a word she was saying.

Lim's arm whipped out again. The Silurian guard watching her reacted with a start, seeing Lim's fist waver overhead. The guard braced for a thump. Instead, Lim's hand flew over to the cooling system control panel. She flicked all the switches she had remembered seeing the others use earlier.

A jet of freezing cold air blasted against Commander Kylen's shoulder. Kylen gave a howl of pain and fear, so extreme that Lim instantly realised: these creatures cannot survive in the cold!

Kylen's scream was the catalyst that prompted all the soldiers back into action. Knute's second punch fell short as the soldier took a balletic step backward and responded by lashing out its long, venomous tongue. Knute was lucky that the tongue strike did no harm other than a minor scratch which caused Knute to slap his hand to his neck. Had the prongs of the Silurian's tongue penetrated deep below the skin he would have been poisoned dreadfully and – most likely – fatally. Even with the unfamiliar facial structure of the Silurian, Knute could recognise the look of rage upon the guard's face.

The other soldiers began firing at will. A beam of deadly energy headed directly for Lim, who warped her body out of shape. The beam passed directly through the point where her torso had been and blasted into the wall behind her.

Another shot fizzed toward Esther, who dived out of the way and scrambled for cover next to Stephen behind the Sarcophagus. Sparks showered down around her shoulders as the beam crashed into the metal shutters behind her. She exchanged a look of terror with Stephen.

Kylen staggered around in pain while The Doctor called once again for calm. Commander Valta joined in, saying, “Listen everybody, we don't have to fight! We can work together to live in peace.”

At this combined effort, Kylen seem subdued, almost ready to be reasoned with, while one of the soldiers – the one keeping their gun trained on Lim – heard the appeal of the legendary Silurian hero and saw the subdued look on the face of her own Commander and allowed her gun barrel to waver away from Lim.

The other two soldiers, however, had become fixated with their prey. More laser beams flashed around Stephen's and Esther's heads as the Silurian tried to find an angle from which to hit them. Knute, meanwhile, ducked and weaved while the unmasked soldier tried again and again to strike him with her tongue-venom.

Lim saw what was going on and how Kylen had stepped out of her carefully aimed beam. Her elongated hand was still hovering over the controls and in desperation she tried again. “If you lower your weapons,” she yelled out, “I will switch off the cold!”

The Doctor screamed, “No!” as Kylen and Valta were both blanketed in a potentially fatal blast of freezing air. The Doctor could only imagine how many other Silurians were lurking in or beneath the Museum and if they learned of the death of their leader and their hero at the hands of those they assumed to be humans, then this night could be the start of a large-scale and bloody confrontation.

Lim's eyes widened and she managed to reset the blowers to aim only at Kylen. She was pushed aside as the Silurian soldier thundered past her and headed over to the control panel.

The Doctor almost lurched over to the controls to try and desperately regain control of the situation. The Silurian, assuming that the Doctor intended to increase her masters' suffering, thumped The Doctor aside and set upon the controls herself. The Earth technology was completely unfamiliar to her but she just about managed to turn the intensity of the machine down.

The Silurian felt a hand placed upon her trembling arm. She looked up and met the deep, calm eyes of the Doctor. “Please,” The Doctor appealed, calmly and quietly. “let me help.”

The Silurian stepped aside, stunned, as The Doctor stepped quickly in and deactivated the machine. Kylen and Valta lay on the floor, desperately choking for warm breath.

<   >

Throughout all of the fighting, Stephen had simply been taking cover by the casket. His only part in the battle so far had been as cautious observer, merely taking enough of a risk to peer over the top.

Fighting was not really Stephen's oeuvre and he silently wondered at the events that had brought him into the middle of this pitched battle between man and … these incredible creatures.

The Doctor was still standing in the middle of the carnage, apparently avoiding being the target of any direct attack and shouting at the top of her voice for peace and sanity.

Stephen felt – he was not sure how misguidedly – that the resolution to this fracas could come from him and, perhaps, him alone.

He gripped the handle of his suitcase tightly. He closed his eyes and stood up, holding the suitcase out in front of him, hands shaking. He half expected, at any moment, to feel the burning pain of a laser bolt hitting him in the chest.

Eyes still held tightly shut, he yelled out, “Stop it everybody! I've got a bomb!”

Chapter Five – Humanity in the Balance

“I'm going to kill everybody if you don't STOP RIGHT NOW!” Stephen shouted. His voice unavoidably faltered and cracked as he spoke, making his threat sound more comedic than he had intended. He felt as though any moment everybody in the room was bound to see through his ruse, realising that the briefcase was simply a container for his Geiger counter. Still, it had convinced Esther enough to cause her to take a few steps back away from, just in case.

Lim duly translated the threat for the assembled Silurians. Kylen looked at the heavy object in Stephen's hand and barked an order for the other soldiers to halt.

Kylen dragged herself up onto her feet, refusing any offers of assistance. She stared at The Doctor, her murderous expression slightly diluted by surprise. “You were the one who deactivated the machine,” Kylen said in astonishment, “why would you behave like this toward your enemy?”

“Please,” Lim appealed, “we must find a way to work together in peace.”

“They started it,” Knute muttered and The Doctor shot him a warning look.

Valta stepped towards Kylen, “I am your Supreme Commander. If you will not listen to my arguments then perhaps you will respect my authority! Call your soldiers off.”

Kylen shrank, slightly. She gave a hand signal and the other Silurians lowered their weapons and made to step away. Stephen stepped back, trembling and lowered the briefcase. Knute managed to give the soldier a cheeky elbow in the stomach while standing up. He gave the solider an innocent smile.

“Kylen,” The Doctor began, “what exactly is it you want to achieve?”

Kylen hissed, “my people had a great and glorious-s-s empire on this-s-s planet, long before the apes sprawled out over it. We predicted the climactic changes which we knew we could not survive and we dug deep into the ground. When the ice age came, we became under-dwellers, until we developed the technology to sleep for centuries at a time. Every now and again we would wake to check on progress. To our horror we discovered that, while we slept, a new and greedy species was robbing this planet of its resources and poisoning the air and the seas. The apes dig deep into the ground for oil, damaging our technology and harming our people. Even now you see before you the Sarcophagus of one of our war heroes, stolen from the earth by you humans. I will not rest until I have seen every last ape eradicated from the surface of this planet!”

The Doctor sighed. “It's going to be a long day,” she said to herself. “Look,” she continued, beginning to lecture Kylen, “you need to calm down. You got your sarcophagus back. It's really not that bad. Wouldn't it be better just to leave these people alone? If their behaviour continues as you predict, maybe they won't last that long?” There was a mixed look in the Doctor's eyes – a recognition of the self-destructive nature of humanity, twinned with her hope that they could achieve so much more.

At this, Kylen shook her her, confused, “I don't even understand what you people are doing here. We had promises from the other bald ape that we could use this place as a base of operations!”

At this the companions all looked between each other, mouthing silent questions.

Lim broke away from translating for the others for a moment and said, “Who was that?”

Kylen shrugged, “the short, fat, red-faced ape.”

At that moment the secure door opened and Carter Alsop barrelled in, pushed into the room by yet another Silurian. “Bring him forward!” Kylen commanded.

Carter Alsop seemed terrified, but all of his concern drained away when he saw the state of the lab and the condition of the Sarcophagus. “What have you done!?” he shouted, furious, “You have opened the sarcophagus!”

“S-s-silence, foolish ape!” Commander Kylen hissed at him, “What has-s-s happened to your promise that we could use this museum as a base if we showed you ways to gain access to more and more artefacts-s-s?”

Alsop looked shame-faced under The Doctor's stare. “What exactly did you promise these Silurians?” she demanded.

“They … have a fascinating network of tunnels and digging machines,” Alsop explained, “While we spend most of our time simply trying to break through the surface, their people are able to extract Finds from underneath the ground and from much deeper than we could currently attempt. They have recovered all kinds of human artefacts that have simply fallen down into their tunnels over time! They have promised that I can exhibit them, here, if I can just provide them with some space at the museum for their – ummm – whatever it is they want to do.” The Doctor was still pinning him down with an intense stare. Alsop threw his hands in the air, “Well how important can their plans be in the face of the chance to see all that hidden history!?”

The Doctor turned to Kylen, as if to demonstrate a point for Carter Alsop's benefit. “And what is it that you want to do, Commander?” The Doctor asked the Silurian war leader.

“We require a base of operations on the surface to establish a beach-head,” she explained, rebelliously, “We will rally our troops and equipment and advance upon the stinking apes!”

The Doctor wheeled on her heels back to Alsop, “This doesn't seem like a very good plan, now, does it, Mr Curator?”

Alsop was defiant, “All I care about is that I could fill this museum with millions of previously unseen historical items. Whole eras of human development we never even knew existed!”

From out of the shadows, Esther stepped up to him. “But who would see them if we were all dead?” her quiet authority and conclusive argument stopped everybody in their tracks and a deadly silence fell upon the room.

The curator's face became ashen. He imagined a world in which he sat in the centre of the British Museum, surrounded by artefacts from a thousand lost ages – and not a single soul came to look upon them. As obsessive as Alsop was about hoarding artefacts, that obsession was tempered by his desire to show them off to the world at large.

“What have I done?” he whimpered, looking to The Doctor for an absolution that he did not find in her eyes. “Please,” he begged, “you must get these creatures out of here. I don't want them to drive people away from my beautiful museum!”

She offered him no comfort, “Pity you didn't think of that sooner.” He crumbled before her righteous fury.

“Where did they come from?” Stephen asked, after hearing Lim's translation.

“They will have underground entrances throughout the museum,” Valta explained.

Knute asked, “and why were they killing the guards?”

Kylen shot him a zealous look, “Tonight was the night for recovering our war hero from his tomb. We vowed to kill anyone who stood in our way!”

“Well now you have your Supreme Commander, what do you want from him?” The Doctor asked.

“He is to lead us to a glorious victory over the apes!” the look in Kylen's eyes was almost rapturous.

“And what do you think of that, Supreme Commander Valta?” The Doctor turned to the war hero.

Valta shook his head, sadly, “they don't understand. I was waiting for the day when we could find a way to live side by side with the humans and share the space.”

Kylen laughed at this “show me their capacity to s-s-share!” She pointed at Knute, “That big one with the broad shoulders keeps punching my people while the stretchy one with the long arm burns us-s-s with the cold. These apes don't seem to me as though they wish to share their planet!”

Lim protestest, “But that was just to get you to stop and lower your weapons! I am not a threatening person normally.”

Kylen smiled, wickedly, “And so what would we have to do to stop you from attacking our people? War is the only way!”

The argument went back and forth. It seemed as though neither side was prepared to give way or offer a compelling argument. As Valta watched, he saw the precious peace, that he once dreamed of, slipping further and further away, until he felt that this night could only end in all-out war between the humans and Silurians. And, whichever side won, they would be left to cobble together a new existence from fragments and survivors. Valta despaired for the future he could see developing.

<   >

“I can't deny that the apes – sorry, humans – are poisoning the planet,” The Doctor continued, trying to find a way to break the impasse. “I agree with you on that, but there must be some way you can work on it together?”

“That is exactly what I've been trying to say!” Valta cried out, “This is a huge planet and the humans occupy a comparatively small part of it. The last time I travelled this planet I came across an area where very few humans lived, covered in sand. Each time I visited it I was sure it was growing dryer and larger. I'm sure there is a part of this planet which must surely be suitable for us to live.”

“Wait a minute!” Stephen spoke up, “are you saying you'd happily live in a desert?”

Valta nodded, “the conditions would be excellent for us.”

“Well there are number of deserts on this planet. Any one of them would be ideal for you. The Sahara desert would be perfect,” Stephen explained.

Kylen visibly salivated as Lim relayed Stephen's description of the Sahara desert, laying out the miles and miles of untempered desert with the hot sun baking its surface.

“Very well,” Kylen said, the look on her face suggesting that this row was far from over, “we will recover our dead and return to the depths. We will find our own way to this desert of which you speak. But as far as I am concerned this planet is still ours!”

“You don't want to hug it out then?” Esther suggested, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

Possibly Lim's translation didn't adequately relate the sarcasm back to the Silurian commander. Either way, she fixed Esther with a hard stare. “One day, apes-s-s,” she hissed, “we will be back and you had better be ready for our return!”

At this, Kylen and the other Silurians ran to the edges of the room and climbed deftly up the walls. One of the Soldiers pulled free a ventilation grille and the others skittered through, followed by the soldier herself who dexterously returned the panel behind her. The humans stared in amazement.

The Doctor turned to Supreme Commander Valta, “what will you do?”

Valta considered, sagely, “I will go with them. Hopefully I can convince them to settle the surface in peace, rather than as an invasion.”

“Good luck,” The Doctor said, smiling.

“And thank you,” Valta told her, “I doubt I'd have been able to talk them down on my own without your assistance.”

“That's what I'm here for,” The Doctor assured him. Valta disappeared up the wall and slipped into the ventilation.

The gathered companions still looked a bit stunned.

“So,” Esther asked, “what exactly just happened?”

The Doctor turned to smile at her, “we saved the world from a blood-thirsty invasion.” She added, as if by explanation, “because it's Saturday.”

Esther was about to open her mouth to speak when the secure door burst open again. The security guard – the one whom Knute had punched into unconsciousness earlier – burst into the room.

“Right!” he shouted, “hold it there, all of you!”

Carter Alsop turned to face him. The security guard seemed surprised to see him here with these intruders and stopped in his tracks. “Mr Alsop?” he asked, confused.

“It's okay, Doug,” Alsop reassured him, “the … umm … situation is under control.”

“What has happened sir?” The guard's eyes rested on Knute, “that man! He broke in and punched me!”

Alsop tried to calm him down. “Really, Doug, it's all fine now. There has been a terrible incident here tonight. Perhaps you and I should go and fetch the police?”

Doug the Security Guard held the door open for Carter Alsop. When the curator had stepped through, Doug turned back to The Doctor and the companions, eye-balling Knute. “And you lot,” he said, jabbing a finger in their collective direction, “had better wait here. We're not done with you.” He backed through the door and there was a double-clicking noise, as though the door was being firmly sealed.

“What do we do now?” Esther asked.

The Doctor exhaled and puffed out her cheeks in a universally recognised sign of “time to be off!”

“I think it's probably time we got going,” The Doctor said, “I'd rather not talk to the police. They take such a long time to get the point and they really aren't going to believe anything we tell them.”

Esther frowned, “yeah but where are we going to go, exactly?”

The Doctor walked gracefully over to the loading shutters and began to pull them upward. “Well, you could all come with me. I can take you anywhere in the universe,” The Doctor said as she walked out into the access road and started strolling away from the museum building.

Esther stared after her. “I'm sorry,” she said calling after The Doctor, “what did you just say...?”

Epilogue: Did I Mention That It Also Travels In Time?

“What have you got there?” Lim asked Knute as they walked along the chilly pre-dawn streets of London.

Knute smiled and hefted his tatty and damp hold-all up into view, “I found my bag in the ice. It contains all my clothes, Football pads and even a ball! Maybe I can change out of these … interesting clothes.”

“Probably a good idea,” agreed Stephen, noting that Knute's tiny “sexy genie outfit” had taken considerable wear and tear in their adventure, unable to bear the strain of supporting the Norwegian powerful frame.

There was a troubled look on Esther's face. The Doctor studied her expression for a moment.

“Is something wrong?” The Doctor asked her.

“Did you mean what you said to the Silurian?” Esther asked, “about us not having that long left?”

The Doctor tried to muster up a kind smile for her. “Humanity's future is rarely fixed,” she explained, “beyond nearly all other races in the universe, your people have a capacity to achieve anything you put your minds to.” She gave a sad little shrug, “But, at the moment you have set your hearts upon gobbling up every available resource before anybody else can use it or create an alternative; that behaviour pattern can only lead to complete destruction.”

Esther took all this in and considered it. Then, the young goth's faced filled with frowns of confusion. “You talk like you aren't one of us.”

The Doctor laughed and stopped. She had led the group to an antiquated Police Box, sitting under the drooping branches of a tree. Esther almost bumped into it, surprised. How could she not have noticed it sooner?

The Doctor opened a door in the front and gestured for them to enter. “If you take a look inside, you might understand me better.”

“You said we could go anywhere in the universe,” Stephen asked, “what did you mean?”

“Just that,” said The Doctor.

“But I only have two weeks' holiday,” Lim protested, “how will I get back to Elastica Fantastica before my visa runs out?”

“If you like,” The Doctor explained, “Once you're tired of travelling I can bring you right back to this very spot at this very moment.”

She took in all of their confused faces. “Oh, right!” The Doctor exclaimed, suddenly remembering, “did I mention that it also travels in time?”

“I'd want to see the future!” Esther blurted out, before being able to stop herself. She felt herself being under The Doctor's gaze. “Y'know,” she murmured, “to see how things work out for … people.”

Stephen chipped in, “well if we can go anywhere, I'd like to see another planet!”

“Hmm,” The Doctor considered, “humanity's future but on a different planet? I think I can arrange that.”

Esther suddenly gave the police box a suspicious stare; she wore a bitter frown, as if she was suddenly cross for being duped in some way. “Anyway, I hardly think we're all going to fit inside,” she argued, “Is this your idea of a student prank: How many strangers can you fit in an antique Police Box?”

The tall, elegantly-attired, alien stranger flashed her a knowing smile and said, “I think you'll find it surprisingly roomy.”

<   >

Just as the sun was breaking over the London skyline, there was a soft white glow from beneath a tree as an alien lantern flickered into life.

The tree's branches swayed back and forth as though being gusted around by winds, yet the air was still and none of the other trees moved an inch.

The air was filled, momentarily, with a heaving, groaning sound; a sound made up from a mix of half-forgotten dreams and ice grinding against metal.

The old police box dimmed and faded into nothingness and soon the spot on the street where it had stood was empty.

<   >

Thank you for reading. I hope you have enjoyed this adventure, based on the actions of a roleplaying group playing Doctor Who: Adventures in Time and Space by Cubicle 7.

The Doctor, Esther, Lim, Stephen and Knute will return in War and Peace(Haven).

Christopher J Jarvis, 15th October 2012

Maintaining the Mystery in Doctor Who Roleplay

One of the areas where I'm trying to learn, in being a newbie Gamesmaster, is how to give the players an entertaining ride through the plot. Good stories and mysterious situations are the backbone of Doctor Who. Doctor Who is less of a medium which allows you to send your player characters off on a quest to kill a particularly feared beast; in this instance the Doctor is just as likely to uncover a reason why the "evil" beast is, in fact, a victim of the ignorance and double-standards of the terrified villagers.

Like any fiction media, the ideal with any plot exposition is to give away enough plot pointers that the audience can "realise" the plot before it is fully revealed (with the exception of twists, which should generally be fair, i.e. not out of the blue and unprecedented but at the same time unpredictable).

However, the main difference between written narrative and a roleplaying adventure, is that the main characters are the players. In passive fiction, like film, tv, theatre and books, nothing is lost if the audience guesses the plot before the characters. The characters will still go through their own journey to realise it for themselves and this is satisfying to watch. That's why in passive fiction it is possible to show scenes in which the main characters are not involved. We can witness the villain, or traitor or incoming doom without the protagonists being aware of the events the audience have seen.

The Matrix. A much shorter movie if the others had seen the scene where Cipher and Smith started dating.

Player characters, however, are aware of everything that the GM has revealed. The Doctor Who: Adventures in Time and Space Gamesmaster guide refers to this as "meta-gaming." This is where the players bring information to their character which they know from being participants in the wider game. What this means is that player characters will not blindly stumble towards their fate in the same way as fictional characters in passive stories.

The ideal is obviously for people to role-play characters in such away that they appear not to know this information. But this is unrealistic. Tabletop games bring together a group of players who are working together to survive challenges and defeat scenarios. It must be assumed that any information one character knows, all the others have access to that information. They have, after all, heard the GM say it. The only alternative I see is handing out written notes to each player, classroom-flirting style.

The other reality to accept is that players will unearth narrative twists faster than characters in traditional media. Modern audiences will usually be looking for the pointers which hints towards twists and outcomes. There are lots of reasons for this I won't go into right now, but suffice it to say that if you present players with an apparently harmless situation, they won't believe it. They won't write oddities off to coincidence, the way TV characters will. Every peaceful village will be assumed to have a human sacrifice at the weekends. Scientific Research Bases will always be working on a new armageddon virus alongside, say, slightly more effective home pregnancy tests. That nice caretaker who let you into the private area? Bound to be being controlled by a psychotic alien host.

The point really is that audiences and players aren't stupid. Writers usually assume they are, which is why so much TV is predictable. The other point is not to get too attached to how clever our plots are. Until I've mastered the art of maintaining mystery until a big reveal, I have to assume that with one game of five players and a second game of three players, one of them is bound to guess the twist.

And what one player knows, they all know...

Doctor Who (Game B) Session Write-Up - Das Metallreich, Part 1

N.B. What follows is a prose narration of the events that took place in the game session. If you like, it can be regarded as a kind of Doctor Who fan-fiction, except that all the events are driven by occurrences in-game and is presented in first-draft quality. It is not intended to fully recreate any events or characters from any previous Doctor Who episode, book, radio series or comic, with the exception of some iconic villains. Even The Doctor is a reinvention. Perhaps how the Doctor may appear in a different reality. It cannot, therefore, be wrong on any canonical continuity. It exists within itself and is presented purely for reading pleasure and to inform role-playing experiences. Thank you :)

Edited note: This story is now finished - you can read part two here and part three here.

Chapter One - A Curious Meeting In Westminster

The meeting had finished late. The ladies were particularly animated this evening, angry at the latest failure of Parliament to hear their appeals. In spite of all assembled striving for the same goals, they had argued endlessly over the best way to make the authorities listen. By the time the Suffragists had come to a set of conclusions they could all agree to - or at least a set of compromises - it was already dark.

The streets were unusually quiet. Even though her home was close, Miss Georgie Stanton would have preferred to have engaged the services of a Hansom Cab. Having been unable to do so, she had taken a deep breath and resolved to walk the few streets to her family house.

It was a dark night, air fresh and crisp with the promise of more snow overnight. Her shoes and walking-cane crunched through recently-fallen snow, while the gas lamps glowered and flickered as cool air whistled around them. Many wondered why a woman of her youth should carry a walking-cane. "If men can bear them as a fashion statement," she replied, "why shouldn't I?"

Georgie became aware of a shadow behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and could see a bulky shape moving in the darkness. She ignored it and continued walking.

She could hear its footsteps, now. They were soft and quick on the road, yet somehow clicking on the cobblestones, rather than crunching in the snow as were her own steps. Also, whoever this person was, they were catching up with her. Could they mean to accost her?

Georgie Stanton was no shrinking violet, she thought to herself. If, simply because she was on her own at night, this fellow thought he could menace her on the street then he would have another think coming!

She turned. She could not see any figure clearly, just the same dark shadow on the edge of the light being radiated from the gaslight. She called out, "I say, is there somebody there?"

The figure gave no response, but Georgie could hear him getting closer.

She set herself back on her route and resumed walking, much more quickly this time. It seemed to her that the footsteps behind her became faster and more urgent. The fellow was giving chase!

Georgie picked up her hems and began running, or at the very least the quickest trot she could accomplish in her bulky dress. Oh why are we ladies bound by such impractical attire? she muttered to herself, still able to hear the figure approaching.

The line of houses on this side of the street came to an end and Georgie found herself following the railing of one of the private gardens which the neighbouring town-houses used in a communal fashion. She came to the gate and tried it, but it was padlocked closed.

She saw that it was not a terribly high fence though and set herself to clamber over the iron work so that she might find refuge, or at least a place to hide, on the other side. Once again, however, her heavy skirts frustrated her and she simply could not clamber over the railings to the other side.

The footsteps came closer and closer. Georgie pressed herself against the railing, feeling the reassuring weight of her walking-cane in her hand. This ruffian would know some pain tonight if he attempted to lay a hand on her, she told herself.

The figure drew closer and Georgie could make out the shape of a man, walking briskly down the street toward her. But - and at this she could almost not believe her eyes - she could see right through him!

It was a ghostly apparition, the size and shape of a man, yet almost entirely translucent. He darkened a patch of the street some yards from Georgie, but he cast no shadow of his own and left no footprints in the snow. Georgie's eyes were wide with horror and she had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. In spite of her fear she still found herself analysing the evidence before her. She was convinced the apparition's steps clicked upon stone, rather than the snow that lay all about.

Just as she thought the spirit was close enough to set upon her, it passed by her. It came uncomfortably close, but to her relief it did her no harm and continued running along the street past her. She watched, her throat dry with terror as the ghostly figured pattered away down the street. It seemed to look over its shoulder for a moment, then it veered left...

...and ran through one of the houses on the left!

It was as though the brick wall of the town-house was not even there. The figure simply evaporated into the wall.

Weighing more fright upon her, Georgie spun around to see three more apparitions lurching in the same direction. They ran in the direction of the lone figure. They bounded down the street to roughly the point where the figure had disappeared into the house. They seemed to look about them and then they split up; one of them disappeared into the same building, another crossed the street and disappeared through another wall in the same fashion while the last carried on down the street and disappeared into the darkness.

Georgie's heart was frozen. She could barely move or speak with fear as the night around her closed to a deeper silence. She stood, immobile.

A new sound broke the night hush. There was a wheezing, grating sound, like the sound of ironworks being dragged across the rock floor of an empty stone cavern. The sound rose and fell, she realised, in time with a curious light that was glowing from the alley 'tween two houses across the street.

It was an unearthly light. Too warm to be cast by the moon, yet too silvery and icy ever be considered daylight or the comforting fiery glow of a gaslight.

Yet, it was also a reassuring light. There was no evil in it. In contrast to her recent experience it was a comforting beacon; a promise of succour and safety.

Gathering her wits she crossed the street quickly and spied into the path between the two buildings. There was a tall, rectangular, blue-coloured beacon of some kind. It sported a glowing lantern atop the structure, although this did not appear to be the source of the light. The light itself issued from both the windows and from the doors in the side facing her. The words "Police Public Call Box" were written in an illuminated strip along the top. One of the doors was ajar and Georgie felt her curiosity getting the better of her.

As she put her head tentatively through the opening, her first thought was that she must have been mistaken about what she had seen outside. She had thought it to be a small container of some kind, perhaps large enough to fit four men of good acquaintance if they stood shoulder to shoulder. Yet, the room which greeted her angled away above her head and spanned out several yards ahead of her. The walls were dark, crafted from some kind of black stone. What she had taken to be stone was elegantly carved - again, her assumption - to look as though it had been grown rather than crafted.

The light she had seen could only have come from the central adornment. A raised sculpture of, it seemed from this side, six edges each bearing a face covered in all manner of metalworks and coloured glass orbs, which seemed somehow illuminated from within. At the centre was a glowing heart. A tall glassy chamber containing the light most wondrous. She marvelled at such an artifice.

Georgie was about to return outside to see how she could have been so mistaken about the nature of this hall, when she noticed a pair of feet protruding from beside the central structure. They were pointing towards the cavernous ceiling.

"Hallo?" she called out, "are you in need of assistance. There came no response.

She moved slowly round and saw that there was, indeed, a man lying on the floor. He was dressed most unusually. He was clad in black clothing, made from a kind of leather but darker and much smoother than the rough hide she had seen the navvys wearing.

A number of things happened at one. The door Georgie had come through swung shut with a bang and a click; That pure light in the middle of the room had begun to rise and fall, rhythmically, almost in time with the rising chest of the unconscious figure on the floor; The groaning, rasping noise she had heard from outside resumed, much clearer and purer from in here.

The last thing that happened was the deep chiming of a bell, clear and somehow naturally foreboding; nearby and yet also sounding as though it came from the very bowels of the earth, or high up above the canopy of this room.

As the bell sounded, the eyes of the man on the floor flicked open and darted to and fro around the room. He seemed to take in a great deal in moments: the figure in his room; the moving light and the bell - most of all, the ringing bell.

"Ah", said the man, suddenly, "the cloister bell. That can't be good. That can't be good at all!"

Georgie was relieved that the figure spoke in a genteel manner. He sounded like a perfect English gentlemen.

The man got up and almost entirely ignored her for a moment, leaning over his curious sculpture in the centre of the room and watching the light move up and down.

Then his attention turned to her, quick and sharp. "Hello," he said, "Let me introduce myself." He seemed to drift for a moment, not totally sure how to progress. To Georgie it seemed his thoughts  were bouncing from subject to subject. "Strange circumstances," he stated, then asked, "Are you alone?"

Georgie's confusion turned to indignation with remarkable alacrity, largely because she could now see that this stranger did not appear to be in danger of any harm whatsoever.

"Yes, I am, thank you," she said, curtly. "Where am I," she demanded, "what is this and what does that bell mean?

The stranger paused  to think for a moment, as though not sure which of those was the best answer with which to start. "I'm The Doctor. You are presently in ... " he floundered for a moment then offered, "... a Tardis."

"A Doctor?" she replied immediately, "You hardly look like one. What are you wearing?" The leather he wore was a deep black. The top part was a jacket, open at the front with some kind of teeth for metal fastening. The trousers were made of the same thick black leather, but with a stripe on the outside of each trouser leg - like a pair of dress trousers, she thought - and the knees featured some sort of padded ribbing.

The man looked down at himself and then at her own clothes and smiled. "Oh, my bike leathers?" he said, "it's, um, standard garb for racing around on fast vehicles." He flashed her a smile.

Georgie rolled her eyes in an exasperated manner. "What are you on about?" she exclaimed, "My name is Miss Stanton, and I would like you to let me go. I don't know what sort of place this is." She looked around at the dark walls and the curious light with sudden suspicion. "Is this an opium den?" she asked.

"No," he replied, assuredly. "So, um, how did you happen to be in the Tardis? I wasn't aware of things for a while there. My vehicle must have taken a lurch or a lunge and I must have bashed my head on the console or something and ummm," he broke away, again, distracted by another thought. "Yes... not ideal," he finished, abruptly, before adding, "She tends to do that from time to time."

"Tardis?" Georgie repeated, completely unfamiliar with the word, "What are you talking about? I was walking down the street and these ... things approached me. I thought they were phantoms and I then came across this 'Police Box'. Are you something to do with the Peelers? You told me you were a Doctor!"

The man seemed to consider her words for a while. "Right, okay... Peelers," he said, out loud, "Which era would that place you in?" He looked at her with a sudden flash of inspiration, "God save the Queen? Umm... by which I mean Queen Victoria?"

Georgie looked at him, oddly, and said, "How can you not know who our monarch is?"

"Well, this may come as a surprise to you but there are some individuals with the ability to travel between various different times." He offered this completely reasonably.

She gave him a look of... well, not contempt, because that would be beneath her but perhaps as much polite ladylike condescension as she could muster. She was used to Gentlemen treating her as a creature of dull wits, but her grandfather had raised her to use her mind and apply it well; characteristics which had brought her to the doors of the struggle for equality.

She replied, "Ha! Do you think me a fool simply because of my sex, sir? Are you a friend of Mr Wells? Is this some sort of gentlemen's prank?"

"Ah yes..." the man's eyes glinted with recognition, "Mr Wells..."

Without warning, the whole room moved violently. It didn't seemed to rock or shake. Rather it seemed as though the whole room shunted six yards to the left.

The man grabbed a railing, deftly, but Georgie was not so lucky. The elaborate centre decoration slammed into her hip hard, knocking her to the ground.

All was still, once more. Georgie could feel a dull ache and she imagined she would have some terrible bruising once she had a private moment to inspect the injury. She looked over at the man who had so far only introduced himself as a Doctor and could not help but give him a pleading expression.

The Doctor rushed over to her, "I'm so sorry, Miss Stanton. I should have warned you that this might happen! She can be a little flighty. I should have warned you to hold onto something. Are you okay? Are you injured?"

"I'm okay," Georgie gasped, a little breathlessly, "what was that, an earthquake?"

"I'm afraid that the Tardis is not a static building, rather a means of transport. As such, she sometimes arrives at places which are not entirely stable."

Georgie flashed him a withering look, "must you continue with this foolishness?"

The Doctor gave a rueful grin, "I suspect this may be one of those things that can only be proved through seeing it with your own eyes."

At that moment the room shunted once again. This time The Doctor wasn't so quick and slipped to the floor. Georgie's vision flashed with pain as the central structure hit her hard on the forehead. When all was still once more, she raised her hand to her skin and it came away slick with fresh blood.

The Doctor was up quickly, hands moving quickly over the devices on each panel. "I'm very sorry, Miss Stanton," he explained, "but whatever is going on outside, the Tardis it is not happy at all. I'm afraid I'm going to have to put us down, whereever we are."

The grating noise ceased as did the low vibrating hum which, until now, Georgie had been feeling through her feet since coming into this place. She also noticed that the ringing bell had halted, although she was not sure when that had happened.

"Right," The Doctor announced, "before we go anywhere we should sort out that nasty bump of yours." He held out a hand.

Chapter Two - The Great War

Georgie was grateful for the civilised nature of The Doctor's ministrations. In spite of her fears of being dishonoured in some way, this Doctor had seemed to be able to assess her injuries and treat them without the necessity of her removing a single item of clothing.

He had led her through a door adjoining the chamber they were in to a long corridor. To one side he led her into a small room with a reclined examining chair and a table full of instruments which were unrecognisable to her. He had pointed some form of wand at her for a moment. Was he now some kind of magician? Then, he had picked up a metal box from the side, pressed a few switches and invited her to hold the device near any part of her that hurt. She used the device herself, pressing it first against her forehead, then discretely against the tender swelling on her leg. The pain seemed to dissipate almost immediately. She was even more amazed when The Doctor had passed her a hand mirror and she could see no evidence of a cut, scar or even blood on her forehead.

He reassured her that his "Tardis" didn't usually behave like that in flight. This was a very unusual effect and he was very concerned about what was causing it. As they both moved back into the big room, he was fussing over the centrepiece once more.

Georgie still refused to take on board anything he had said about travelling. For a room this size to be capable of moving it would have had to have been a far more obvious vehicle than she had noted from the outside, even with the darkness combining with her previous state of fear.

Ultimately, the thing she wanted most at the moment was to get home and climb into bed.

"Shall we take a look outside?" The Doctor suggested.

Georgie hesitated for a moment, "do you think those creatures will still be outside?"

"The console isn't showing any kind of life forms within the immediate vicinity, but there is plenty of life out there." Georgie didn't know what a lot of that meant, but took it to mean, "no."

"Very well then, Doctor," she gave a gracious little bow and gestured toward the doors, "show me what you think is outside."

The Doctor smiled and stepped past her to open the door. He pushed the door open and stepped through.

Georgie could see cobblestones on the floor and brickwork to the side. Her first thought was that the snow had melted and that they had - as she had suspected - moved nowhere at all. But then, she saw the low arched roof, illuminated by electric lighting, strung at irregular intervals along the ceiling. She saw the semi-circular alcoves to either side, each containing some sort of barrel. It looked like a wine cellar!

"Have we fallen through in the street into a cellar?" she asked The Doctor, looking up at the roof. The brickwork above the Tardis was completely undamaged. In fact, she could see no way in which the box could have moved in or out of this room.

Box! She spotted her own realisation: the room she had been in was a box, after all! She moved around it in disbelief, looking at each of the the sides. She could put her arms comfortably around each panel. But she had been inside and it was a huge room. Was this some kind of magician's trick?

Georgie looked around for the Doctor. He was already wandering away through the cellar, looking all about him with curiosity. Georgie caught up with him.

"Eastern European, I'd say," The Doctor was muttering aloud, "not sure what the current date is, but this was built in Earth's 18th or 19th Century, by the look of the stonework. I'd say the electric lighting puts today's date to be much later."

Georgie looked at this madman with horror. "Who are you?" she demanded.

He gave her a roguish grin, saying "I'm a sort of adventurer, if you like. Shall we explore further?"

At one end of the cellar was a set of steps, leading up. They headed towards these and as they walked slowly along, The Doctor cautioned her, "judging from the electric lighting in here I should say that not only are we in a different place than you will be expecting, but it may be much later in time as well. You may see things you have not seen before. I suggest you brace yourself."

Georgie gripped the handle of her walking-cane for comfort, "we shall see, Doctor."

The steps led up to a walled courtyard, or bailey. It was a pitch-black night and insistent rain was pattering off all the hard stone surfaces.

The Doctor stood out in the rain for a moment, the raindrops smashing against his dark leather jacket. He seemed to be looking up into the sky. "Do you hear that?" he asked her.

Georgie strained to listen for any sound other than the thrumming rain. There was another sound there. She couldn't quite place it. The closest sound she could compare it to would be bellows. That was it, it was the sound a fire made while feeding a furnace.

To her surprise, there suddenly seemed to be a man on fire falling out of the sky. He was dropping towards them, head first, flames leaping from his back and legs. In the last few moments he swung about, putting his feet ahead of him, but the flames increased. He landed heavily on his feet and all at once the flames coming from his back were extinguished. There was a whining noise and the clicking of cooling metal.

She gazed in terror at his face. His visage was featureless and golden, with two giant black insect eyes staring at her. She was about to scream when she checked herself. Silly girl, she thought, it's just a helmet.

The Doctor spoke first, breaking the silence. He was looking at the metal cylinders on the newcomer's back with wide-eyed excitement. "That looks like fun!" he exclaimed.

The newcomer seemed to stare at the the two of them, looking at them with his head on one side. "You don't sound like Germans," came a muted, rattling voice from within the helmet.

"German?" Georgie exclaimed, "I'm certainly not German!"

The newcomer reached up and removed the helmet. He was a very handsome man, Georgie thought, with a strong jawline and wavy blonde hair. He said, urgently, "Have you seen anyone else like me?"

"Like you?"

"There were four of us," he explained, "did anybody else make it through?"

The Doctor shook his sad, "You're the first person we've seen since we arrived. Although it must be said that that wasn't very long ago."

"Who are you?" Georgie asked in wonder at this flying man.

He looked suspiciously at them for a moment, his hand resting on a very oddly-shaped pistol in a hip holster. Then his eyes seemed to relax as he decided they weren't a threat. "I'm Captain Conrad Seager, U.S. Army's 4th Rocket Corps. Service number twenty-one-dash-zero-zero-three," he rattled out as if by rote.

"I'm Miss Stanton," Georgie told him, offering out a politely poised hand for him to kiss. He took it and shook it firmly. "Umm, yes," she responded, "who was it you were looking for?"

The Doctor was examining the fellow's clothing. He was also clad in leather, but it was a tan, natural looking leather. It seemed much tougher and less fine than The Doctor's own clothing, but something of the cut of the jacket and line of shiny buttons put Georgie in mind of a military uniform. The jacket reminded her of pictures of the old American Confederates, in their military tunics. Captain Seager's jacket had a US flag on the upper left arm.

"Are you on some kind of war mission?" The Doctor asked, excitedly.

Captain Seager eyed him warily, "I'm not at liberty to say, sir. But I do need to find the rest of my team. We were fired upon as we approached by anti-air weaponry. I just about managed to make it through and put her down, here."

"You are on a mission then!" The Doctor's enthusiasm was boyish, "I thought as much."

Captain Seager's eyes darted upward suddenly. Georgie followed his gaze; she could just about make out figures moving around along the high walls all around them.

"Quick," Captain Seager urged, "we need to get inside, if we haven't already been spotted."

"Yes," the Doctor agreed, "if this is some sort of theatre of operations, we should seek cover."

They each looked around them. They could see four exits from the courtyard. There was the door back down to the cellar; there was a large double-gate set into the bailey wall; there was another large door in the adjacent bailey wall and a small man-sized door in the foot of one of the bastion towers.

"In there, quick!" hissed Captain Seager, he moved quickly in the direction of the bastion tower. He pushed the door open to find the bottom of a wide circular stairwell, ascending the bastion.

"Do you know where you are trying to get to?" The Doctor asked as he followed Seager through along with Georgie.

Captain Seager shook his head, "I may be a little off-course. I was in formation with my squad when we were attacked and had to get out of there fast. I had no chance to see where they managed to get to." He gave a little rueful smirk, "Plus, I can't always control my rocket-pack. It doesn't always take me where I want to go."

The Doctor smiled back, "I know the feeling. That sounds a little like my Tardis."

"Tardis, what's that?" Captain Seager asked, quickly.

The Doctor paused, before saying, "You may get to see it later."

Captain Seager nodded. He looked upward suddenly and placed a finger to his mouth. After listening for a moment, he began to climb the steps, indicating for The Doctor and Georgie to follow.

They reached a landing, of sorts, with two doors; each, presumably, led onto one of the ramparts leading away from the bastion. They could hear voices from behind one of the doors. German voices.

The Doctor was about to ask a question when, without warning, Captain Seager un-holstered his pistol and put his shoulder to one of the doors and burst out through the frame. The door burst open.

Georgie could see two men out on the rampart, shoulders hunched against the rain, with some kind of gun slung over their shoulders talking to each other face to face. Before she could call out, The Doctor grabbed her and pulled her inside the bastion stairwell. They stayed in the shadows of the door-frame. The Doctor could see enough to confirm what he had been worried about: Nazi uniforms. He was in the middle of Eastern Europe during the Second World War!

As Captain Seager burst into view, the eyes of the solder facing the door grew wide. He shouted "Aufhalten!" The man with his back to the door spun around, trying desperately to get his gun into his hand. Seager raised his own pistol and pulled the trigger.

There was a flash of green light and an arcing, scything sound, following by a burning smell. A beam from the pistol hit the soldier squarely in the centre of the chest. He dropped to his knees and fell forward on his face, completely still.

Georgie had seen very little violence with guns in her life. Mostly she had read about past wars and endured a number of hunting stories. Never had she imagined that a weapon could end a person's life so completely and suddenly. She felt sick.

The Doctor also gasped.

"What is it?" Georgie asked him, choking back bile.

"Our Captain Seager has a radium-powered weapon. That's very odd."

"Odd?" she replied, "it's barbaric!"

The other soldier raised his rifle to fire at the Captain, but was knocked off-balance as a second green blast caught him in the side of the ribs.

He was about to recover his aim and take a shot, when Captain Seager stepped forward and tried to snatch the rifle out of his hand. They grappled for a moment and there was a sudden loud "brakka-brakka!" as the gun discharged into the sky. Georgie was amazed. She'd never heard of a gun firing so many shots at once. From across the across the bailey came the sound of another German voice, calling out.

Seager was about to give up his struggle to snatch the soldier’s gun, when suddenly the enemy clutched at a pain in his chest and fell to the floor.

The Doctor raced upward a few steps, looking for an arrow slit which would give him a vantage point. "The uniforms aren't right, either" The Doctor commented under his breath, troubled.

"What's the matter?" Georgie asked, stepping up to where he was, trying to see as well.

"I know a little of this era," The Doctor told her, quietly. "It's one of the major landmarks in human history. Images of it persist down through the ages. All I can tell you is that their uniforms don't look right. They have all the skulls, colours and Swastikas of the Nazis, but the cut of the uniform is too ... dressy. Like they were designed in a slightly more old-fashioned time. But the machine-guns are right. On top of that, Captain Seager is using a weapon which was never invented here and is decades ahead of its time."

There was another metallic rattle of a German machine-gun. Captain Seager stumbled forward as two of the slugs smacked against the back of his helmet. He turned and ducked down behind the low stone wall, firing green energy which grazed past the soldier's shoulder. The soldier fired back; Seager ducked down once again as more hot metal thudded heavily into his headgear. He returned fire, green light illuminating the stone around him. The German's chest flashed brightly and he dropped to the floor.

Captain Seager came running back in, "I think I've caused a bit of a ruckuss." They could all hear the shouts of alarmed response scouring the ramparts.

"We should get out of this castle" Georgie had to stifle her voice, she wanted to cry out.

The soldier shook his head. "I can't leave," said Seager, "not until I've located the weapon."

The Doctor rounded on him, "what weapon? You said you didn't know where you were."

"I knew I'd been sent to this region to look for an experimental Nazi weapon. I think we've established that there is a pretty strong enemy presence here," Seager hissed, insistently, "Strong enough to make me think this castle probably contains what it is we're looking for." If you're with me, we should group together to take control of the castle."

Georgie's voice rose, "I have NO interest in using one of those ghastly weapons!"

He gave her a patronising look, "No worries there, sweetcheeks, I've only got the one!"

The Doctor considered, "If this is a site of strategic importance or scientific research, then they may be hiding something which can explain all the strangeness here - I know it's dangerous but I think we should look around a bit more."

An alarm sounded, violent and insistent. From the steps above them they heard the sound of a door clattering open and boots running down, towards their position.

Georgie looked panicked, "Can't we get out of here in your Tardis?"

"She doesn't seem very flight-worthy at the moment, I don't really want to fly her if there's a chance you will get injured again," The Doctor sighed, "Plus, she has a tendency of dropping me in places where the natural flow of history has become damaged. If she's dropped me here, there must be a reason. I can't leave till I've at least tried to fix it."

"So what do we do?"

The Doctor thought fast, "I think the first order of business is to find a better place to hide. And quickly!"

 

Chapter Three - The Lab

Boots clicked and clattered over the stones as the soldiers scoured the bailey and ran in and out of doors. Corridors were swept, doors opened, hiding places illuminated with torches.

But the stack of large packing crates at one edge of the bailey, under the ramparts, remained unchecked. One soldier had come close, but The Doctor had discretely performed some kind of tricks which Georgie hadn't been able to see which had distracted the enemy away to a different part of the yard.

Things seemed to be settling down. From the snatches of discussion she had overheard, Georgie understood that they believed the attackers to have fled the castle. The double gates in the bailey wall were opened and two soldiers raced out into the night. Georgie could just about see the edge of a snow-drenched forest leading down the valley, leading to the inviting lights of a quaint village some distance away. The snow had held out well against the rain. Whereever she was, Georgie thought, at least it was winter here too. That was one piece of stability she could hold on to.

When she thought it was safe, she asked, "Where are we, Doctor?"

The Doctor frowned and replied, "I'm confused myself, I'm afraid. I thought we were in the Second World War, but what with these curious uniforms and weapons, I just don't know."

"Second World War?" Georgie looked confused. "Does that mean there is going to be a First World War, still to come?"

The Doctor nodded, sadly. "I'm afraid so."

Georgie's eyes became twin hard points set in steel, deadly with resignation, "who is the cause of all this?"

The Doctor was troubled by the idea of finding a good way to answer this, or even giving Georgie an answer which would equate to knowledge of her own near future. "That's a very complicated question."

"The Germans?" she offered, being a regular debater of politics with her grandfather.

"Lucky guess," The Doctor told her.

The two soldiers returned from scanning the perimeter of the forest. It sounded like they could not even see any footprints leading away. One of the soldiers returned to the bastion, while the other stood in the bailey, occasionally turning and patrolling in a new direction. It seemed as though a more normal patrol routine had been resumed, while the rain had let up considerably.

The Doctor turned his attention to the containers they were hiding behind. He began to try and work one of the panels loose. Georgie watched on as Captain Seager assisted him, trying to pry the wood off the nails without causing a noise which would attract the attention of the German soldiers.

Inside was a large quantity of straw packing, but The Doctor reached in and dragged some of it aside. He pulled a metal baton from his pocket. It looked a bit like a spanner, but had some sort of jewel in the end. He pointed it into the box and the jewel lit up, flooding interior of the box with light. Georgie would normally have felt that she had never seen such an incredible thing, but it had been a very unusual day!

The Doctor reached in and extracted a piece of black metal. He hefted it in his hands and turned it over. He tried to flex it, but failed. "Curious," he commented, quietly, "it's very tough and light for its thickness. That's another thing that is more advanced than I would have expected." He pulled out another, larger piece. He turned it over to reveal a curious symbol. It was the same symbol Georgie had seen on the soldiers. The Doctor and Captain Seager recognised it as a Swastika. The Doctor looked grave.

"We need to see what these are being used for," The Doctor announced, "I'd say we should be keeping an eye out for chaps in white coats, yes?"

Captain Seager nodded, "Research rooms in castles like this are most usually located in a basement. To protect from air raids."

Georgie looked worried, "and how do we get past him?" she indicated the guard.

The rocket-soldier smiled, "leave it to me."

The Doctor and Georgie watched in anticipation. Captain Seager crept about halfway to the soldier then froze. The soldier seemed to move. They all waited, desperate to see what would happen.

The soldiers raised a hand to his mouth and coughed, twice.

They watched as Seager's shoulders relaxed. He crept further forward and, at the last minute, leapt upon the soldier. Seager grabbed the enemy's skull in his arms and attempted to twist his head to one side to snap the neck. He failed.

The pair wrestled to the ground. The soldier must have been better trained and stronger than Seager expected. Seager managed to keep a hand over the soldier's mouth to keep him from calling for reinforcement, but the soldier seemed to be winning the battle of strength.

The Doctor looked around, searching for a way to help Seager. Georgie saw his eyes fall upon a small piece of stone masonry. He raised his hand towards it and twitched his fingers. The stone flicked across the ground and clattered on the ground near the soldier. Neither of the two men fighting seemed to notice however.

The Doctor was about to make a second attempt, when he saw that Georgie was striding across to where the two men were grappling.

Her approach was noticed by the Nazi soldier too late. As he looked up in surprise, Georgie brought her walking-cane across his face. He slumped down, unconscious, on top of Seager.

Captain Seager groaned, "that's great, thanks. Any chance you can get him off of me?"

Georgie grabbed an arm and hauled, as Seager rolled the limp German onto the cobbles. Seager grabbed the soldier's machine-gun. "MP40," he commented, "anybody want this?"

The Doctor raised his palms and said, "I don't really do guns."

The look on Georgie's face convinced Seager not to offer it her way. "Suit yourselves, he said and slung it over his shoulder."

Georgie spotted a little handle sticking out of the prone soldier's boot. She curtseyed gracefully and extracted a short blade. "I might keep hold of this, though," she muttered to herself and concealed it within the folds of her skirt.

"Come on," said the Doctor. He knelt down by the body and grabbed a set of keys from the soldier's belt. He located and used the key to get them into the door in the bailey wall.



It was unlocked, thankfully and led them into a narrow corridor within the rampart walls. Searching around, they came across a set of steps leading down into a well lit area.

In comparison to the rest of the castle, these steps were modern and the rooms they led into were also modern. Based on the direction of the steps, these rooms must have been built by tunnelling under the castle's courtyard.

Whatever it was, The Doctor and Captain Seager were excited to find evidence of engineering tools and spare parts. Ahead they could see a pair of double doors, with window revealing some kind of workshop-cum-laboratory. The doors were labelled "Achtung - Verboten" (although to Georgie and The Doctor they simply read "Warning - No Entry"). The room beyond appeared to be empty.

Captain Seager was about to push the doors open, when the Doctor grabbed his arm. "Wait!" he said, "look."

The Doctor pointed to a thin wire coming from the top of the door, leading to a box in the corner. "It's an alarm," he explained, "open this door without disabling it and all we get is guys with guns and boots."

Captain Seager let out a long breath. "What do you suggest?" he asked.

"Just give me a moment," The Doctor said.

He took out the wrench-thing that Georgie had seen before and worked it along the wire. It made a buzzing noise, like a happy insect. After a few moments he snapped it back and returned it to his pockets.

"All done," he announced, "let's go."

They pushed the doors open and stepped into the lab. There were rows of benches, each featuring tools and mechanical and electrical spares. There was more of the black metal which The Doctor had found in the packing crates.

Georgie walked over to one of the benches. She picked up the object in the centre and turned it around with curiosity. It was full of bundles of cables and pieces of clockwork, but in overall form it reminded Georgie of nothing so much as a person's arm. She held it up in silence for The Doctor who saw it and frowned.

At one end of the lab was a big pair of metal doors. Next to these, they noticed a partitioned office in the corner of the workshop. Making eye contact with each other they crept over to the small room. Peering through the glass they could see an old man hunched over a desk, poring over plans and paperwork spread all over the surface.

The Doctor seemed to hesitate for a moment, as if coming up with a plan. Then he seemed to shrug and simply pushed the door to the little office open.

The old man looked up with curiosity. "Why, hello," he said, in a friendly manner, "how can I help you?"

"I suggest you don't call out or cry for help," The Doctor told him.

The man seemed confused by this, "why ever should I do that, my dear boy?" he enthused. "Have you come to see my work?" he added, hopefully.

"We would like to know more about what you are doing here, yes," The Doctor moved in, conspiratorially, "you seem to be working with some quite advanced engineering and if I didn't know better I'd say you were working with limb prostheses." The Doctor's expression turned dark and he added, "but I do know better. So I'd like to hear about it."

"Ahh," said the old man proudly, "you are interested in the prototypes. It's been so long since anybody showed and interest in my work besides 'when will it be ready' or 'work faster'."

"It is very advanced," The Doctor said, "have you created this yourself or have you had ... external assistance."

"Well, yes, the work that I have been asked to continue is very advanced and I must confess I've spent a lot of my time simply trying to understand how to make it work. But, we seem to be cracking it!"

The Doctor picked up some of the design draughts and had a good look at them, before passing them to Captain Seager, who studied them, intently. "What exactly is the nature of the work?" The Doctor asked.

"Let me tell you a story," the man began, a big smile on his face, clearly content with having an audience, at last. "When I was a boy, there was a terrible accident at the mines near my village. One man was recovered alive, but he never regained the use of his legs. Imagine - just imagine - if we could have given him new legs through robotic construction! Or new arms! It's just unimaginable. With the right technology, we could completely renovate the human body!"

"Are these prototypes solely to be used for the victims of injuries, then?" The Doctor pressed.

"Well that's the thing," the old man went on, "with the sophistication of the work we are doing it was obvious that it was theoretically possible to piece all of these limbs together to create an autonomous machine. A new creation! Think of it, man's days of manual labour could be at an end!"

"I see," The Doctor scratched his chin, "who is in charge of this work?"

The old man shuffled uneasily, "well I suppose technically the authority rests with Commandant Jurgens, but I like to think it is in line with my own desire to develop and push the boundaries of science."

"And are you yet at the stage where this device is ready to be prototyped?"

"Oh," the old man's face fell, "has Commandant Jurgens sent you down to chase me for results? How disappointing. I've told him and I'll tell you. At the moment they require too much remote-control. They are not sophisticated enough to work without us driving them. It's not practical at the moment. It's not ready for combat testing."

"So they can't act on their own volition, yet?"

"No! And, none of the designs for radio links I've been given are fast enough to allow these machines to live up to half of their potential."

The Doctor took another look at the paper designs. "This is interesting," he said, indicating areas of the diagram to Georgie, "the arms and legs are extremely complex and full of detail, but the head or chest - where you would expect the most important parts of the mechanism to be located - are almost empty. It's almost as though part of the design is missing." He leaned closer, "there is some very complex wiring around the ears though. They'll be very good listeners!"

The Doctor straightened up and addressed the old scientist, "I'll say one thing, though, if you don't mind me being rude. It's fairly clear to me where the original design ends and where your additions have been made. Good work with adding the radio technology for control though, mind. Well done!"

Suddenly the piercing alarm resumed. Georgie surmised they must have found the unconscious guard.

The doors they had come into the lab through slammed shut and they heard the noise of bolts turning, locking them in the lab.

"What's that?" the old man said, "another alarm? Oh bother, it's always such a nuisance when they do this. All the doors lock. For some reason they seem to think an emergency is lessened when nothing and nobody can get in or out!"

The Doctor, Georgie and Captain Seager all looked at each other.

Another sound drew their attention. There was a deep, booming, banging noise from behind the big metal doors.

The old man got up from his seat and stepped back out into the lab, looking at the doors, curiously.

"Err," said The Doctor, "does that noise always happen when the alarm goes off?"

The old man waved a hand, distractedly. "Certainly not," he said, "now where did I put that control."

He hurried around the lab, picking up bits of equipment on each workstation and searching through piles of paper. The banging noise from behind the door continued, becoming louder and more urgent.

"Aha!" he announced, picking up a box from one of the surfaces. His face fell, "oh, I thought ... this radio transmitter isn't sending any signals at all! I don't see how the prototype can be moving on its own."

The Doctor hurried over to him, "you say this machine can't work without control?"

"No," the frail little man replied, "not yet. I've asked for more resources and Commandant Jurgens promised he would find a way to help me finish the prototype, but it hasn't happened yet."

The booming noise got louder and louder. Georgie chipped in, backing away from the metal doors, "what exactly is the prototype?"

The old scientist walked up beside her, pointing the radio-control at the doors and trying various dials. "It's the new robotic soldier," he told her, "the Metallensturmtruppen."

"Metal Stormtrooper," the Doctor repeated.

The metal doors smashed aside and a tall black figure stepped through metal and brick debris. It stepped into the room and seemed to stare around itself. Its entire body was panelled with the black metal pieces they had been examining around the castle. In the centre of its chest was a white circle bearing the Swastika emblem of the Nazi party.

"No! It can't be possible!" the old scientist sounded scared and excited at the same time. He jabbed at the remote controls again. "It's simply not possible!"

The Metal Stormtrooper rounded quickly on the scientist. Its limbs were spindly, but agile, in contrast to its bulbous head and chest components.

It reached out a dexterous arm and gripped long fingers around the old man's head. It picked him up, seemingly with ease, while the old man screamed in discomfort. It seemed to think for a moment; then, without warning, it shook the old man's violently by the head. The screaming stopped instantly, replaced by the blood-curdling sound of snapping bones and tendons. The machine threw the body across the lab, where it crashed into a pile of equipment. The limp body did not move where it fell.

The three intruders stared at the thing in horror, backing away. Georgie stepped back, knocking a clipboard off the edge of a workstation.

The Metal Stormtrooper advanced.