Chapter 6
Escape From Mars
“So you think you met the Lord of Hell, do you?” said the Doctor as he settled himself into his comfortable old armchair like a contented clucking hen.
“Well, I must tell you the gentleman the wizards destroyed was definitely not the Lord of Hell! He was in fact the greatest wizard to ever hold a wand anywhere in the known the universe! I met him a few days ago in Deep Wood!” The wisp of a smile flickered across the Doctor’s face, but his blue eyes were filled with sorrow.
“And I’m also privileged to say he was my closest and dearest friend!” The Doctor paused for a moment adjusting the position of his chair so he could look directly at the prince, and continued: “And I’m at liberty to tell you, Prince David, that my dear friend and you share the same genes; he is your ancestor!
“But he was rotten! And the wizards were definite he was the Lord of Hell!” said Mathew. “And he stank like a dead fish on a hot summer’s day!” he persisted and pinched his nose to emphasise the point.
“And he tried to suck-out my body juices, too!” shouted Prince David with more than a hint of theatrics - he proceeded to throttle himself for effect.
The Doctor chuckled at the Prince’s play-acting and Zoë laughed while Mathew encouraged him to press a little harder.
“And if it hadn’t been for the wizards,” cried the Prince, “I’d be worse than dead right now!”
“Yes, that’s right, he’d be deader than dead!” Mathew rolled his eyes for melodramatic effect.
“You know quite well what he meant!” said Zoë in a reproachful voice. The prince nodded approvingly and grinned tauntingly at Mathew. “He obviously meant that he’d be soulless, a walking dead; a zombie!”
“So what’s new then?” said Mathew dismissively.
The Doctor flourished his arms to restore some good behaviour and he continued his amazing story:
“The wizards are unaware of the harm they’ve caused Kingdom; and potentially to the future of mankind, the Universe, and history itself! And because of their monumental error of judgement,” he went on in a sombre voice, “it will now be easy for the real Lord of Hell to cast his evil presence throughout the known universe!” The Doctor looked deeply troubled.
“Merlin was in the process of regenerating himself; he needed a drop of the Prince blood to achieve that end!”
Zoë, Mathew, and the prince sat quietly, as if mesmerised by what the Doctor had just said. He continued:
“It also appears the wizards lack knowledge of the history of Kingdom, and that of the royal family. In fact, and it grieves me to say this, it looks as if they know so little about anything aside from wizardry that they’re a real menace and a danger, not only to themselves but to universal society in general!
And let me tell you something else about my dear friend Merlin,” said the Doctor a little too loudly for his usual self; “the Lord of Hell killed him the first time a thousand years ago on Mars. And the reason then was that he, Merlin, had the boldness to stand up for his God-given principles and fight for the natural rights of all oppressed people and sanctuary seekers to live in equality and harmony with their neighbours irrespective of their colour, religion, race , creed, or political persuasion.”
“You’re not referring to our Merlin the Magician of English folk lore and legends are you?” asked Zoë; she looked a little confused – she thought he was English!
The Doctor’s lips stretched into a broad smile. “Yes, Zoë, I was referring to our good English Merlin from the Knights-of-the-Round-Table days. But his true, that is, his official title is Grand Imperial Wizard to the Court of Tragic-the-Terrible – back on Mars! His history in
“And I must also tell you that the name Tragic-the-Terrible, because of its association with your cruel and blood-thirsty ancestor, is never mentioned openly even after the passage of a thousand years in Kingdom, Deep Wood, and our dear Mother England!”
“How was Merlin killed?” asked Zoë. “And did he truly sit at Court of King Arthur?”
“And how is it you knew Merlin so well?” Asked Prince David; he narrowed his suspicious eyes in the Doctor’s direction.
“We’ll talk more after dinner,” said the Doctor pulling himself from his comfortable chair; he hurried towards the kitchen and the smell of mouth-watering food; Zoë, Mathew, and a sulking prince followed him closely.
Violet, Caroline, Basil, and his little colourful mate Goby the Goblin-fly were already seated around the table. Goby sat on Basil’s broad shoulder and buzzed hungrily. Mr Thomas was having a catnap in front of the stove; he was in no hurry; and Odin drooled with the expectation of getting lots of food handed to him under the table.
The Doctor and the others hurried in and sat themselves down just as the first course was being served by a group of weary elves.
Dinner was absolutely scrumptious. They feasted on golden crispy-baked potatoes with chives and sour cream, vegetables, and forest mushrooms of all kinds, roasted and deep-fried chicken, pork chops with applesauce, spare ribs braised in barbecue sauce, and several varieties of healthy English sausages. The banquet ended with a dessert of creamy custard and fresh fruit that a company of foraging elves had gathered in the forest.
“That was simply wonderful, Violet,” said Basil between a barrage of happy burps; he ignored the grumbling kitchen elves who did all of the cooking, and everything else in the Castle for that matter. He turned his attention to his Goblin-fly mate; he was cheerfully preening himself on Basil’s shoulder. “Did you get enough to eat, Goby mate? Perhaps you’d like another slurp of custard, eh? There’s plenty on my shirt.”
“Thanks, Baz mate,” Goby trilled gaily and beamed from ear to ear; he just loved his big mate to bits; he then rolled onto his back, tweeted with good cheer, and patted his elegantly-distended abdomen; two of his ‘fly’ buttons had popped during the feast, revealing his pink polka-dot underwear.
A group of elves suddenly appeared, as if out of nowhere, and began to clean up.
“Hello. What’s this, then?” said Basil rubbing his eyes to make sure that what he was seeing was really what he was seeing; and satisfied that it indeed was the case, stopped rubbing his red eyes.
“I thought those elf buggers were a swarm of miserable Castle rats for a moment,” he said laughing discourteously. “They would have been Rattus domesticus if they were.” He laughed and flung a partly-eaten bun at the closest unfortunate elf that didn’t duck fast enough.
“Could’ve been worse, Basil,” said Mathew, rocking with laughter. “He could’ve been Rattus arse! If you’d hit him with that bun.” Basil slid from his chair in an uncontrolled fit of laughter.
“Stop it,” said Caroline; she was far from happy with Mathew’s appalling behaviour, and it was getting worse as he got older!
“You’ve got a lot to be proud of, haven’t you, Basil?” she said rounding on Mathew’s hopeless father.
“Don’t blame me for the shortcomings of the public school system!” he said defensively and assumed a desperately wounded look.
“Have the elves been here long?” asked Zoë, hitching up an artificial smile and changing the subject, hopefully for the better.
“Not as long as I would’ve wished,” said Violet over Basil’s laughter; he’d scored another direct hit on an elf; Mathew was keeping score.
“They’re such a stroke of luck in my advancing years,” said Violet; she heaved a sigh of bliss and contentment and held out her cup for an elf to refill it with Earl Grey tea, two spoons of sugar and milk, and then passionately stirred the ingredients until they blended just right.
“Where did you get them?” asked Caroline, looking at the hard-working, sweating elves as they scurried about cleaning up and trying desperately to avoid being the target of Basil’s attention.
“Do they cost much to run?” enquired Basil, sounding like a car buff; he’d run out of buns.
“The Doctor found Simon in Deep Wood,” she said, and pointed at a flamboyant little elf energetically waving his arms in all directions like a traffic warden as he directed the comings and goings of the kitchen elves. He wore the remains of a cream-bun on his head.
“He’s the elf-in-charge,” she said proudly.
Basil laughed. “And where did his mates come from then?” he asked. “I hear the buggers breed like rabbits, at it all the time according to the veterinary textbook: Exotic Animal Fornication.”
“You could always give them a nut-ectomy Baz mate!” said the Goblin-fly and chirruped madly at the thought of his grand plan; he’d already spent too much time in Basil’s company. Basil quaked with laughter and slid to the floor again.
“Too right, mate!” he squeaked from under the table. “And I’d start with that pipsqueak, Simon!”
Simon’s jaw dropped onto his pigeon chest and he pelted from the room as fast as his crossed legs would allow.
Caroline clasped her hands to her face. Violet pretended she’d heard nothing. And Goby rolled about on Basil’s shoulder burping loudly.
“The other elves followed Simon to the Castle,” continued Violet; she ignored Basil’s question. “Conditions were not at all easy for elves in Deep Wood at that time; there was just too much competition from gnomes, trolls, goblins and other Deep Wood folk for all available caves, burrows, tunnels, tree holes and other places that could be used as a home and to raise a family. And the Castle is so big that we decided to allow the elves to stay here.
But the little dears insisted on working for their keep. So they do everything about the house, including the cooking and washing-up; it’s so wonderful,” she said, and a happy grin stretched across her face. Caroline sighed again.
“Can I take a couple of elves home with me in exchange for Basil?” Caroline asked; she sounded serious.
“I heard that, Caroline!” somebody shouted.
“How many elves do you think we could get for him?” asked Mathew; he cast a critical eye over Basil. “Not too many, I’d wager”
“It is very thoughtful of you to offer Basil in exchange for an elf or two, dear,” said Violet, chuckling under her breath.
“I’m worth a lot more than two elves!” shouted Basil; he sounded rather cross.
Mathew laughed as he pulled himself closer to Basil. “Well let’s face it, Basil my old mate,” he said grinning. “Nobody wants you; even Odin and Mr Thomas over there licking his bottom for dessert think you’re a waste of good, honest, Deep Wood space!”
Basil looked really saddened by the tenor and context of the one-sided exchange; at least his mate still loved him.
“When God made you, Baz mate,” he chirped, his little voice crackling with passion, “he threw away the mould. You’re one of a kind, Baz, and you’re my best mate!” Having got that off his chest, Goby buzzed like a well-oiled chain saw and did loop-de-loops on Basil’s shoulder.
Basil grinned. He was one of a kind after all; and so was his little mate.
***
Their splendid meal over, Violet, Caroline, and Basil lazily pulled themselves from their chairs and shuffled off in good spirit in the direction of the lounge room. It was their intention to relax in the well-cushioned lounge chairs, listen to the satisfying music of Bach, and nod off for an hour or two in order to allow their meal to settle.
The Doctor, Zoë, Mathew, and Prince David, however, remained in the dining room. They drew their chairs close together next to the fireplace.
“I’ll begin the story just as it happened,” said the Doctor, adjusting the position of his chair so that he could face Zoë, Mathew, and Prince David more directly.
“It was about seven hundred years ago that your race of people, the Eloi made their first appearance on Earth. And as I said before they came from the planet Mars with only one thought in mind to continue their war with the wartlocks.”
Prince David resumed his sniggering and mumbled something disparaging under his breath. The Doctor ignored him and continued.
“But after many centuries of war here in Deep Wood the Eloi and the Wartlock finally tired of the bloodshed, mutilation, and death, and began to live together in a sort of peaceful coexistence. But with the passing of the centuries the Eloi became more and more restless and down in the dumps; and every clear and cloudless night they’d look up at the sky and fix their eyes longingly on the red planet as it moved silently through the heavens, and they thought of their former home and of their loved ones who remained on Mars. Alas, their desperate yearning to go home again was futile, and they and their children’s children were destined to remain here in Deep Wood for the rest of their miserable lives; they would never see or feel the red soil of Mars ever again.”
“You don’t expect me to sit here quietly and listen to that load of old crap, do you?” said the Prince rudely and red-faced with rage.
“No,” said Mathew, gripping the armrest of his chair tightly. “And I bet you weren’t expecting this either!”
Prince David groaned loudly as the Doctor helped him back onto his chair; he now sported two black eyes, a fat lip, and what looked like a dislocated nose because it pointed ridiculously towards his left ear.
“Lucky I got to you before Zoë did,” laughed Mathew.
“Well you didn’t have to hit him with your chair, did you, Mathew?” said Zoë with more than a hint of anger in her voice. “What on earth has gotten into you these days?” she turned to help the Doctor take care of the prince’s injuries.
“You’ll be alright, Prince David,” said the Doctor, smiling reassuringly. “It’s only soft tissue damage, thankfully.” The Doctor rounded on Mathew with a harsh look on his face.
“Thank you again, Mathew,” he said in a reprimanding tone of voice. “That was an excellent display of bad manners. I expected much more from you at your age, but it seems that I was expecting far too much from you. And you also breached the Criminal Code you know; you’re guilty of the very serious crime of Assault Occasioning Grievous Bodily Harm - that’s a prison sentence, you know!” Mathew looked back at him as would a bored garden gnome. “And unless you change your ways, my boy, you’ll end up in jail – and it might be me, a justice of the Peace with a Royal Commission, that sends you there!” The Doctor pouted his lips and resumed his seat; he continued the history of the prince’s ancestry.
“Life on Earth wasn’t easy for either the Eloi or the Wartlock,” he said with a heavy voice. “And they had to overcome many difficulties aside from the ravages of the war in order to survive here in Deep Wood.”
“What type of difficulties did they face?” Zoë asked; she was completely wrapped in this bit of secret English history.
The Doctor’s eyes gleamed and his lips stretched into a big broad smile, he liked the calibre of Zoë’s questions.
“The main problems were environmental,” he said, as if he were pleased to move on from the death and destruction part of the story. “Mars and Earth are quite different planets. For instance gravity on Mars is only about half that of Earth’s; its temperature plummets to more than one hundred degrees below freezing at night, and the air on Mars is mainly carbon dioxide while it’s nitrogen on Earth.”
“I don’t care two owl hoots in hell about that,” Prince David snapped heatedly. “All that I want to know right here and now is why the wartlocks went to war against us, my people; God’s chosen people, the Eloi!?”
Prince David’s disrespectful attitude irritated the Doctor, and although he still smiled, his bright blue eyes had lost some of their lustre as he attempted to answer the prince’s question.
“I know that a lot of what I’ve said is extremely painful to you, Prince David, but I’m only telling you the truth about what happened in the past. In fact, what’s happening today had its direct origin on Mars one thousand years ago.”
Prince David dropped his head into the palm of his hands and groaned mournfully. He looked tired and haggard.
“I’m sorry, Doctor,” he said in a remorseful tone. “It’s just the stress of today.” He shot a black look in Mathew’s direction.
“If you can’t stand the stress, mate,” said Mathew, grinning, “then why don’t you lift your royal arse and scamper back to your happy Kingdom; I’ll even help you pack!” he said hurriedly and in a tone that was several octaves higher than normal.
“Act your age, Mathew,” Zoë hissed.
“I was acting my age,” he protested loudly and feigned amazement by rolling his eyes at Zoë’s insinuation.
The Doctor exhaled noisily; he was fed-up with the constant squabbling and innuendo.
“I’ve travelled through time and space on your behalf, and that of your family, Prince David,” said the Doctor; he wore a stern expression on his face as he spoke.
Prince David, for once in his aristocratic life, felt chastised and humbled by what the Doctor had just said.
“I’m sorry, doctor,” he said for the second time in as many minutes. “I’m just too tired and overwrought by today’s events to fully appreciate all that you’ve done on my behalf and that of my family.”
“Of course, Prince David, I understand that fully,” said the Doctor. “And I’m so pleased you understand the need to consult history so we can avoid repeating the mistakes of the past.
“Evolution on Mars closely paralleled that on earth; the mammals succeeded the dinosaurs, and the more cerebrally-advanced simians evolved into the Eloi on Mars and humans on Earth. In the fullness of time both groups became hunter-gathers and then farmers; and with the domestication of plants and animals and the rapidly increasing population, the
“How do you know that, Doctor?” asked Zoë.
“I know, Zoë, because I was there on Mars when all of those things happened. I witnessed the evolution of life there from the moment the first aquatic life-forms emerged from the primordial sea and decided to stay-put on dry land. In fact, I’ve visited Mars throughout its entire history, from the time of its creation!” The Doctor’s eyes twinkled as he watched Zoë and Mathew sitting wide-eyed and gaping with a combination of awe and disbelief. But Prince David sat apart and appeared to be brooding for one reason or another best known to him.
“One day I’ll take you on a journey through time and space with me and let you see Kingdom as it was on Mars a thousand years ago. Would you like that?”
“Yes, please!” shouted Zoë and Mathew with excitement. Even Prince David stopped brooding and pricked his pointed ears and the hint of a smile flashed across his sallow, elfin face.
“But how will we travel through time and space?” Zoë asked; she looked bewildered. “Wouldn’t we need a spaceship?”
The Doctor grinned and laughed quietly to himself. “I’ll take you in my Space and Time Modulator Bubble,” he said, beaming with pride at his achievement. “It’s a time machine! And it can travel to anywhere in the universe at the speed of imagination!”
“Speed of imagination! I’ve never heard of such a thing,” said Mathew, and a grin crept across his face.
”You’re definitely not fibbing, are you, Doctor?” said Zoë in a suspicious tone.
The Doctor chuckled merrily. “No; I’m definitely not fibbing, or stretching the truth in any way, manner, or form,” he said. “My time machine does travel at the speed of imagination; and the speed of imagination is infinitely faster than the speed of light!” His revelation was met with total silence; the concept of something travelling faster than light was beyond the children’s education and comprehension – it lay in the realm of fantasy.
“In fact, the speed of imagination is so fast that the Time Bubble can cross the known universe from one end to the other in the time it takes to visualise the journey in your mind’s eye!” The Doctor stopped for a moment to allow what he’d just said to sink in.
“All you need to do is to form a mental picture of where you want to go and you’re there instantaneously. But I think I’ve gotten slightly ahead of myself again,” he said casually and chuckled cheerfully. “We’ll begin our journey by going back in time to when the Eloi and the Wartlock split from their common ancestor and evolved separately in completely different directions back on Mars. That was many millions of years ago.”
“Hopefully that’s not as far back as the flipping fishes,” grumbled Prince David.
The Doctor laughed quietly. “No, Prince David, I don’t think we need to venture back that far.”
“When the cerebrally-advanced simians, the apes, came down from the trees, they diverged into two evolutionary groups the Eloi and the Wartlock. The Wartlock chose to live in caves, as did the Neanderthals here on earth; they preferred to live in the dark recesses of the planet and only ventured forth at dawn and dusk to hunt and to gather herbs and insects. The Eloi, on the other hand, chose to live in the light of day and because of that they could hunt where and whenever they wished to; they could also venture far-a-field to gather fruits and herbs and they could also enjoy fishing. However, time and evolution treated the Eloi and the Wartlock very differently. The Wartlock retained their original features: hairy bodies; receding, thick-boned foreheads; heavy eyebrow ridges; brown eyes; broad teeth; and had a flat, bony crest running along the top of the skull. They evolved into the image of the great apes on Earth today, especially the Indonesian orang-utan and the African mountain gorilla. By contrast, the Eloi were thin-boned, gracile in build, and had rounded skulls, called dolichocephalism; they evolved to look like us!”
“Did the Wartlock and Eloi ever exchange genes?” asked Zoë; she was very interested in prehistory and anthropology.
“I didn’t think they had genes in those days,” Mathew said with a smirk.
“You’re a philistine,” Zoë said dismissively.
“Oh, yes, Zoë,” said the Doctor with a grin. “There was substantial gene exchange between different Wartlock tribes, just as there was on earth between the many aboriginal tribes. There was also gene exchange between the Eloi and the Wartlock; and both of these groups with compatible extra-terrestrial humanlike species, space and time travellers, from other parts of the universe!” The children gaped like hungry guppies waiting to be fed. “In fact, the same thing happened right here on Earth! You only need to look at Genesis to find evidence of that.” He quickly withdrew his pocket Bible and flicked it open to the sixth chapter of the Book of Genesis.
“It clearly states here in Genesis that the ‘sons of God’ married the ‘daughters of men’ and the ‘sons’ they produced became ‘men of renown’ and great kings.”
“Tragic-the-Terrible was just such a king, the son of a son of God and a woman from Mars. And so was his brother, Merlin.” His eyes dimmed as he reflected on the second death of his dear friend Merlin in Deep Wood.
“Your father, the king currently sitting on the Throne of Kingdom, is the direct descendant of Tragic-the-Terrible and, as I told you before, Tragic-the-Terrible is Merlin’s brother; Merlin is therefore your father’s and your distant uncle!” Zoë and Mathew found the Doctor’s story far too abstract to comprehend fully. But Prince David smirked defiantly and refused to give it a second thought.
“When did you last see Merlin, Doctor?” Zoë asked. She was becoming increasingly interested in the relationship between the Eloi, the sons of God, Mars, Tragic-the-Terrible, Merlin, the incumbent King of Kingdom, and Prince David. A smile flickered across the Doctor’s face.
“As I’ve already told you,” he continued, smiling, “I spoke with Merlin only two days ago, but that was our time. On Mars it was about 1000 years ago; I travelled back in time!”
“What?” shouted Zoë and Mathew; they jumped to their feet with excitement. “Two days ago?”
The Doctor flourished his hands before him and grinned like a Cheshire cat. “I know it’s very difficult for you to grasp, let alone accept, but what I told you is the truth – I am a time and space traveller!” Zoë, Mathew and the prince gaped at him like three stunned mullets. The Doctor chuckled.
“Let me explain it to you this way; it’s all a matter of time and space modulation. I discovered the relationship between the elemental forces that govern our universe; a relationship so fundamental that it explains why the cosmos exists in its perpetual state of chaos.
“I’ve succeeded in proving that energy, mass, light, and time are inextricably interrelated one to the other; they are all manifestations of the one force, energy!” The Doctor’s eyes scintillated in recognition of his enormous scientific achievement.
“However, Albert Einstein took the credit for my discovery.” The Doctor was clearly rather miffed by what he perceived to be the apparent thievery of his idea. “But it was definitely my finding. And I was the only scientist on Earth to fully appreciate the full potential of energy as the basic conceptual and physical tool for mankind to travel through space and time!” The Doctor’s wavering voice emphasised the fact that he alone was responsible for the scientific breakthrough.
“But Einstein enabled the atomic and hydrogen bombs!” said Mathew knowingly; he wanted to give Einstein some credit for the greatest equation in the history of the Universe.
“Well, yes, there is that, I suppose,” the Doctor said. “And it saddens me to confirm that Einstein was responsible for the creation of those doomsday weapons. I couldn’t stop him, or Edward Teller and Robert Oppenheimer for that matter; they built upon my discovery. But that spurred me on to build a machine that could carry me back in time and space; and so have the capability to correct the mistakes of the past. That is why I invented the space-and-time modulator bubble. I can now do that which I always wanted to do, change history!” He beamed like Mr Thomas after a good meal.
“When do we go?” shouted Mathew excitedly while Zoë hopped about enthusiastically beside him. Prince David, on the other hand, rather than be pleased that the Doctor had it within his power to change the course of history, sat brooding yet again.
“I’ll see what I can do,” said the Doctor, chuckling happily. “But I must first finish the story, if only for Prince David’s sake.”
“With the aid of the time bubble, I visited Mars from the beginning of time, that’s how I was able to catalogue its evolution so well. But it was only during my recent voyage that I was fortunate enough to meet Merlin.” He smiled at Prince David who scowled back at him.
“And as I said before, he was the most powerful wizard that ever lived, and the greatest scientist to ever walk on Mars, second only to me of course!” He said and chuckled self-indulgently. The Doctor cleared his throat as a signal that he had something else to say.
“I must have your undivided attention, Prince David,” he said, leaning towards him. “Merlin met his death during the Great War that raged on Mars a thousand years ago between the Eloi and the Wartlock. Tragic-the-Terrible and Merlin fought on opposite sides during that war. And you’ll recall that Merlin fought for the civil rights of the oppressed peoples, the wartlocks, while Tragic-the-Terrible fought for Eloi supremacy and for the subjugation of the Wartlock nation. And even though they were brothers they were the most bitter and unyielding of enemies.”
Prince David jumped to his feet; his face was livid and he breathed rapidly, a sign of raw, explosive rage. The Doctor didn’t stop his fit of temper; instead he sat back and listened; this act alone was sufficient to quell the prince’s anger.
“But, why would Tragic-the-Terrible want to kill his bolshie brother Merlin and to defeat those ape-like good-for-nothing wartlocks?” said the prince; for all of his social short-falls, he was also beginning to sound like Mathew.
It was clear to everybody in the room that the prince had already decided in favour of Tragic-the Terrible, and that he considered Merlin to be an out-and-out pink-arsed leftie.
The Doctor thought for a moment. He could see that the prince was far from being convinced by anything that he’d said so far. This time he’d have to craft an answer that was more acceptable to the prince’s stubborn mind.
“The answer lay in the rapid growth of Kingdom,” said the Doctor in a bright and breezy tone. “Kingdom experienced a population explosion so rapid that it began to choke on its own humanity. And it was because of that pressure that Tragic-the-Terrible embarked on his ambitious program of territorial expansion. Kingdom desperately needed land to satisfy its increasing demand for food and infrastructure. And it also needed a labour force to till the land and grow the plants and animals to feed its rapidly increasing population.”
“But why didn’t his mob buy land and employ farm workers?” Mathew asked; he pointed an accusing finger at Prince David. “Bunch of lazy buggers!” he mumbled scathingly.
“Or buy food from other parts of Mars for that matter?” Zoë said.
“Why should we do that?” the prince interjected angrily.
The Doctor smiled at Prince David as before and tried to answer Zoë’s and Mathew’s question.
“Kingdom was basically a society of administrators; it possessed no machinery or workers of sufficient skill to be farmers; it couldn’t afford to import labour; and its treasury was too broke to buy the extra land.”
“It was then that Tragic-the-Terrible hit upon the idea of war, conquest, and the enslavement of an entire nation; the wartlocks just happened to be close at hand.”
“But war presented Tragic-the-Terrible with a substantial dilemma,” said the Doctor. “For instance, Kingdom was broke; he had to convince his subjects that going to war was a really splendid idea; and he had to encourage his subjects to volunteer to join the army and risk being killed or maimed without pay or benefits; and on top of all that, he had the gall and audacity to invite his subjects to pay for the war!” The Doctor laughed at the impudence of Tragic-the-Terrible.
“At least these days politicians keep the people of
“Tragic-the-Terrible had to be very quick on his feet and talk fast if he was going to solve this one,” said the Doctor with a laugh. “Just like our two-faced, grinning prime minister!”
“How did he do it then?” Zoë asked.
“Bleeding easy, if you ask me,” said Mathew. “It’s because Kingdom’s full of administrators.”
The Doctor chuckled; there was some little truth in what Mathew had said.
“Thank you, Mathew, for your thoughtful observation. But I must say that you do the administrators of Kingdom a very great injustice. And I must also say that society as we know it in
It was abundantly clear to Mathew now that public administrators were an essential class of professional in any advanced society. “I didn’t think it out properly,” he said by way of an apology for the injustice that he’d bestowed on the members of the Royal Society of Public Administrators; “probably had something to do with my public school education.”
The Doctor laughed quietly to himself and continued his story. “Well Tragic-the-Terrible conjured up a diabolically cunning plan to convince his subjects that what he proposed to do was in their, and
The people were outraged by the threat posed by the barbaric heathen Wartlock and a war to liberate the oppressed ‘like minded’ fraction of the Wartlock nation was set in motion. In fact the good citizens of Kingdom were so infuriated by what they wrongly perceived to be an attempt by the Wartlock to take away their land and deprive them of the oil they needed to run their industry and cars that they rushed to fill the ranks of the army. They also withdrew their life savings from the Bank of Kingdom and gave it all to Tragic-the-Terrible to pay for the war; he became the wealthiest man in Kingdom overnight; he laughed all the way to the bank!” The Doctor sighed; he felt miserable as he reflected upon the subsequent hardship suffered by both nations because of the criminal action of just one man.
“Tragic-the-Terrible wanted to give his people paradise on Mars; instead he gave them centuries of blood, sweat, and tears. Learn from history, Prince David, or you’re bound to relive it!”
“Or it’ll turn round and bite you on the bum!” said Mathew in plain English.
The Doctor returned his attention to Mathew. “Thank you again, Mathew. I’m sure that your informed contribution to this story is greatly appreciated.”
“It was towards the end of the Great War,” he said sadly and looked at the prince who avoided eye contact. “I was in the time bubble observing the annihilation of the Wartlock nation; I’d never seen such carnage perpetrated by one nation against another in the last five thousand years of almost continuous bloodshed that I’ve witnessed somewhere in the universe. But there was nothing that I could do to stop the awful bloodshed. And the total destruction of the Wartlock nation was occurring right before my eyes!”
The Doctor fixed his eyes on the flickering fire. “We all carry a spark of shame for something that we did or failed to do in our past!”
“But how could you have helped?” said Zoë sympathetically. “How could just one man stand up against a nation bent on total war?”
“A well-placed atom bomb would’ve done the trick! And you’d know all about a-bombs wouldn’t you, Doctor?” said Mathew with a snigger. The Doctor looked at Mathew pensively and his face sagged.
“That idea was tried during World War II by the
“But if I had saved the life of just one person, then that act may have changed the course of history throughout the universe! And the saving of just one soul may have ultimately led to the extermination of all life at some time.” The Doctor paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, and then continued.
“As I despaired at the slaughter of the wartlocks, Merlin suddenly materialised next to me in the bubble. I have never seen such powerful wizardry before or since.” It was clear the Doctor held Merlin in the highest regard and admiration.
“I had never met Merlin before that time, but the pain and anguish that I saw in his face warmed me to him immediately. He introduced himself as Merlin and told me that he’d felt my presence in Kingdom many times, but unfortunately he lacked charms and spells of sufficient power to contact me until now. Merlin told me the war was going very badly for the Wartlock and he confirmed what I had already concluded from my observations - that the Wartlock were being massacred on all fronts by the technologically and numerically superior Eloi.” The Doctor’s tone dropped an octave and his face assumed a more tragic look.
“Wartlock civilians and surviving soldiers were taken into slavery or killed if considered to be too young, too old, too infirm, or severely wounded. If they couldn’t work they died with a cruel bullet to the back of the head! The future for the Wartlock nation looked grim to say the very least.”
“And it was then, as he sat by my side, that Merlin pleaded that I evacuate the Wartlock survivors from Mars to the safety of Earth.” A wisp of a smile flashed across his face but his eyes showed sadness.
“I was faced with a dilemma of immense magnitude,” he continued. “If I did nothing, then the Wartlock nation would be exterminated, men, women, and children. But if I saved their life by transporting them to Earth I would be contravening Article 1 section 1(a) of the Time Traveller’s Code of Behaviour; a damned-if-I-do and damned-if-I-don’t scenario.” The Doctor sighed. He was clearly still wrestling with the dilemma.
“What’s the Time Traveller’s Code of Behaviour?” asked Zoë; she’d understandably never heard of such a thing, nor had anyone else outside the Guild of Time Lords.
“It’s a book of rules that time lords must abide by for continued accreditation with the Guild of Time Lords,” said the Doctor, like a Civil Servant quoting a particularly interesting act or regulation. “And a time traveller must have accreditation with the Guild of Time Lords before he can legitimately use the title of Time Lord and have use of professional facilities and breakdown services throughout the length and breadth of time and space!”
“Are you a Time Lord?” asked Zoë excitedly, while Mathew gripped the sides of his chair and smiled proudly. The Doctor chuckled and his bright blue eyes assumed their twinkle once more.
“Yes; I’m a member of that illustrious group of scientist time travellers!”
Zoë and Mathew jumped to their feet and danced with excitement and pride. The only other time lord they’d ever heard of was Doctor Who, and now there was also Doctor George - and both were Englishmen!
“So what was it in your Code that should’ve prevented you from saving the Wartlock?” asked Price David. He had shown no reaction to the news that Doctor George was a Time Lord; and not being English he probably didn’t know what a Time Lord was, anyway.
The Doctor grinned and slumped deeper into his comfortable chair. He rested his chin on the tips of his fingers and pursed his lips thoughtfully.
“I saved the Wartlock from certain extinction, and I am very proud to have done so,” he said with a great deal of passion in his voice. “But to answer your other question, I must refer you to Article 1 section 1(a) of the Time Traveller’s Code of Behaviour: No Time Lord shall under any circumstance impede or affect the course of history, or influence the outcome of any event, no matter how momentous that event may be.
“And section 1(b): Any Time Lord who so ever contravenes any part under section 1(a) of the said Code will be considered to be in contravention of Article 1 of the Time Traveller’s Code of Behaviour.
The Doctor went quiet for a moment; he was reflecting, yet again, on the possible consequences of what he’d done to life on Earth, the solar system, the universe, and everything, including to himself and to his family; he shivered as he came to grips with what he’d done.
“Although the prospect of changing the course of history, and contravening the Time Traveller’s Code of Behaviour did flash through my mind, I nonetheless immediately and without question granted Merlin’s request; I transported the surviving wartlocks to Earth!”
“How did you transport the wartlocks to Earth?” Zoë asked.
“And did the Guild of Time Lord administrators throw you out of the time lord club?” Mathew asked with a worried expression on his face; he definitely didn’t want to miss out on time travelling.
“And how many wartlocks did you save?” Zoë asked.
“Far too many, if you ask me!” Prince David growled sourly and continued to brood like an old, worn-out chook.
“Thank you, Prince David,” said the Doctor. “And I’m sure you’ll be most delighted to know that I saved approximately 125,000 wartlocks; men, women, and children, and brought them safely to Deep
“There must be millions of them in Deep Wood by now!” Mathew laughed and pointed a taunting finger at Prince David. “And I bet that’s just what you were hoping to hear, eh?” he said and smirked provocatively.
“Where are the millions of wartlocks?” asked Zoë. “They’d need a large city; and what about food, utilities, communications and the like?”
“And don’t forget the administrators!” Mathew chuckled at his own joke.
The Doctor laughed. “So many questions require time to answer adequately; and we’re getting ahead of ourselves again. Now where was I? Oh yes, I transported the Wartlock to Earth in my time bubble!” And craning his neck towards Zoë and Mathew, he said: “My bubble’s far more advanced technologically and more spatially unchallenged than Doctor Who’s old blue police box!”
“It’s better than the Tardis! Did you hear that, Zoë?” Mathew had a lot to tell his friends back at school after the holidays and he wasn’t wrong; his adventures were only just beginning!
Chortling happily, the Doctor continued. “At first glance the time bubble, when inflated, appears to be no larger than a normal-size transparent Mini Cooper car, but on the inside it’s dimensionless and stretches out to infinity. In fact, it could comfortably accommodate an entire planet!”
“If one could get it through the door, that is,” laughed Mathew. Zoë and The Doctor joined in the laughter; the prince couldn’t see the joke.
“I was able to transport the Wartlock survivors to Deep Wood in a single trip and at the speed of imagination - and I can assure you that event really surprised Tragic-the-Terrible!”
“Even British Rail couldn’t compete with that!” Mathew laughed.
Zoë clapped her hands with excitement and beamed with pride. “And it took English genius to build both the Tardis and the Time Bubble!”
“Ah, yes,” said Mathew, rolling his eyes heavenward. “We English are definitely God’s chosen people, no doubt about it!” And turning to Prince David he said: “That of course, and it goes without saying, doesn’t include Eloi!” The prince could only gape at the sacrilege foisted upon the Eloi by Mathew’s remark; in fact, everybody knows the Eloi were God’s chosen people because it says so in the Bible! The Doctor smiled and returned to his story.
“Your ancestor, Tragic-the-Terrible, was furious when he was told about the Wartlock escape from Mars; he ran about knocking things over like a bull-in-a-china-shop, screamed all the obscenities under the two moons of Mars, and, in an uncontrollable rage, drew his gun and shot dead the terrified bearer of the bad news.
“Tragic then summoned all of his top general staff officers and advisers and shot them for treason. He didn’t waste time with a court trial. He felt a little better after the exercise.
“Tragic wanted his brother Merlin dead at any cost; and he succeeded in the end!” The Doctor paused for a few moments of sad reflection. “But Merlin’s wizardry was so powerful in life that even in death he was still greatly feared by Tragic-the-Terrible. In fact, Tragic was so afraid of Merlin that he had his name removed from every document and monument in Kingdom; and had his mortal remains cremated and the bone fragments pulverised to the finest dust possible and flung into the deepest volcanic pit on Mars – Olympus mons.
“And now they’re waging war against us again!” the prince yelled angrily.
“No Prince David, not again but this time around!” said the Doctor, “it grieves me to see the Wartlock and the Eloi at war again. And it was neither my wish nor my intention that such an event should ever darken Deep Wood and
“Seems to me that all you did was transport the war from Mars to Earth,” Prince David mumbled sourly. The Doctor nodded cheerlessly; what Prince David had said was unfortunately true.
“How did the Eloi trace the Wartlock to Earth?” asked Mathew; he darted a black look in Prince David’s direction.
“And how did they reach Earth without your Bubble?” Zoë asked; she also cast a faultfinding glance at the prince.
“And how come you weren’t struck-off for professional misconduct?” the prince shouted accusingly.
“Thank you for your observations and questions,” said the Doctor cheerlessly; the Prince’s questions disappointed him.
Unknown to anyone other than himself and the Grand Council of Time Lords, he’d already been summoned to appear before the High Court of Space and Time Travellers at a date to be set, and being struck-off was a distinct possibility. The Doctor continued telling his story.
“Tragic-the-Terrible knew that the Wartlock had moved to another planet; that much Merlin had told him before he was tortured to death. But he didn’t know to which planet they had been sent. It was Merlin’s last joke on his brother,” said The Doctor; a hint of a smile appeared on his face.
“Merlin thought there was no way that Tragic-the-Terrible could follow the wartlocks; and even if he could, he had no way of knowing where they were. But unfortunately for the wartlocks, Merlin was wrong, dreadfully wrong.
“It took the Eloi three hundred years to figure out a way to cross the void between Mars and the rest of the solar system; and beyond our galaxy. The massive undertaking involved the combined effort of all the wizards, scientists, and engineers in Kingdom; they worked tirelessly day and night, often without sleep or food for days on end. Tragic-the-Terrible’s cruelty knew no bounds and scores of his best and brightest wizards, scientists, and engineers collapsed and died from lack of food, sleep, and from the stresses of physical and cerebral exhaustion; but in the end their colleagues triumphed!”
“How do you know all that?” The Prince growled.
“The Doctor fixed his eyes on the prince, and with only the ghost of a smile said, “It is because of an uncompromising attitude just like yours, Prince David, that there is at this time so much turmoil and unhappiness in Kingdom. And I know Mathew hasn’t altogether made things easy for you, but your efforts, or lack of them, haven’t helped sooth matters either!” The Doctor replaced his stern look with a thread of a smile and some of the lustre returned to his eyes. “I hope that in future your comments are confined to those of a more constructive and conciliatory nature.”
The Doctor turned his head slightly and addressed Mathew. “And I hope that you took note of what I just said, Mathew? And I hope that in the future you’ll be an activist for peace rather than a fomenter of war!” The Doctor was referring to Mathew’s constant ridicule of Prince David. The Doctor paused to allow what he said sink in; he then resumed his story.
“To answer your question, Prince David,” said the Doctor, “I know what happened to the scientists, engineers, and the other workers on Mars because I was there to see it happen in person!”
“You were there? You saw what the scientists, engineers, and wizards were doing?” Zoë asked; she looked astonished to the point of incredulity.
“Yes Zoë,” said the Doctor, and nodded his head a few times for emphasis.
“As I just said, I was there on Mars physically and I heard and saw everything they did and the suffering they endured.”
“But how did you avoid being discovered by Tragic-the-Terrible?” Mathew asked; he greatly admired the Doctor’s bravery.
“I didn’t hide, if that is what you thought, Mathew,” the Doctor said with a quiet laugh to himself. “My main worry was to prevent people from bumping into me!” The Doctor’s statement was met with confused looks and complete silence.
“Alright, then” said the Doctor, still chuckling. “I’ll let you in on another of my secret inventions. “I used my Gravitation Field Modulator to make myself invisible!”
“Holy moly,” Mathew said excitedly. “The Doctor’s an invisible man as well as a time lord!” The Doctor laughed.
“Let me tell you exactly what happened on Mars a thousand years ago;” said the Doctor and waved for Mathew to settle down.
“The Great War was already reaching a climax when Tragic–the-Terrible heard about the escape of the wartlocks from Mars.”
“Livid with rage, he immediately summoned all of his best wizards, scientists, and engineers to his castle overlooking Kingdom. And there he ordered them, on pain of death, to find a way to pursue the wartlocks, even if that meant travelling to the end of the universe. Tragic was not only Terrible, he was downright crazy!”
“And so they did” said the Doctor. “Never was so much achieved by so few.” He paraphrased a great Englishman from a more recent war.
“And they pulled off that, which it was thought impossible to achieve — they created the most powerful, and the most complex and awesome technology and magic ever devised by mortal beings!”
Zoë and Mathew gasped and gaped at the enormity of the Eloi achievement; and Prince David beamed with pride at what the Eloi were able to accomplish albeit with a lot of encouragement.
“The next question the Eloi had to find an answer for was where had the wartlocks escaped to?” The Doctor passed his eyes over the gaping faces that looked back at him. “To that end, the Eloi astronomers had already concluded that the most likely destination for the Wartlock was Earth: it was a bright blue planet in the night sky and had a suitable atmosphere; it also possessed water and vegetation and it was the closest planet to Mars.”
“Why didn’t they consider Mercury, Venus, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus or Neptune?” Zoë asked; she chose not to mention the planetoid members that orbited the sun from beyond
“That’s a very good question, Zoë,” said the Doctor cheerfully. “Eloi Astronomers certainly knew a lot about the inner rock planets, Mercury, Venus, and of course Earth; and the outer gas giant planets: Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Neptune. And they also knew that moons orbited most of the planets in the solar system. But they didn’t know if any of the planets or moons could sustain Martian life.”
“So what did they do?” Zoë asked.
“The only way to answer that question was to bravely go where no Eloi had ever gone before; they had to see for themselves if those planets and moons could sustain Martian life!” said the Doctor. “So Tragic-the-Terrible, his mind crazy and twisted with anger, sent his best expeditionary soldiers, scientists, engineers, and wizards to each of the known planets and moons in the solar system.
The unfortunate people that were sent to Mercury and Venus were vaporised the moment they materialised on the planets. And those that made it to the gas giants were crushed into oblivion while they were still in the upper atmosphere!” The Doctor paused for a moment; he was clearly distressed by the needless waste of life.
“And many more materialised in the empty space between the planets - their blood boiled instantly; and their bodies, down to their last biological cell, exploded into the cosmic void.” The Doctor shook his head at the horror and pain that the poor unfortunate souls must have experienced the moment before their death.
“Did very many people die?” asked Zoë. The Doctor nodded and took a deep breath before answering.
“Yes, Zoë, at least 500,000 of the most talented and gifted Eloi died a very horrible death! In fact only a handful survived long enough to return to Mars! But those that did live long enough gave Tragic-the-Terrible the information that he craved - the Wartlock had escaped to Earth, to a place they called Deep Wood,
“So Tragic-the-Terrible sent an Eloi army to Deep Wood!” said Prince David haughtily and his eyes glinted with arrogance; he chuckled. “I bet that put the wind up the Wartlock, eh?” Zoë and Mathew remained silent; they saw the tragedy in what the Doctor had said.
“For me to answer your question adequately, Prince David,” said the Doctor sombrely, “I’ll need to spend a little more time talking about the Wartlock escape from Mars.” The Prince rolled his eyes and mumbled something that sounded like not again.
“Tragic-the-Terrible cut a swathe through Kingdom’s wizardry, science, engineering and the military in his irrational and truly pointless pursuit of the Wartlock to Earth.”
“In fact, so many of these highly-educated, intelligent, and accomplished people were killed looking for the Wartlock that those that remained in kingdom were far too few in number to be able to control the enormous power of their newfound technology and magic. It became dangerously unstable and was a far greater threat to the Eloi and to life on Mars than anything else that the twisted mind of Tragic-the-Terrible could ever have imagined even in his worst nightmare!” The Doctor fixed his sad eyes on the prince; he maintained his compassionless attitude.
“And furthermore, just the mere task of switching on the awesome power of the technology meant instant death or irreversible brain damage for anyone who was forced to perform that task!” The Doctor sighed with inner anguish and sorrow. “I find it immensely painful to bring to mind the barbarism that your relative inflicted on his own people.
“Tragic-the-Terrible destroyed his best and brightest scientists and other professionals to the point they were so few in numbers they couldn’t control the awesome power they had created!” The Doctor looked haggard and miserable as he recounted the sad event.
“How did Tragic transport the Eloi to Deep Wood then?” asked Zoë, her eyes wide with curiosity. The Doctor lowered his head; the weight of the tragedy that ended with the Eloi invasion of Deep Wood affected him greatly.
“Transporting the Eloi to Deep Wood presented Tragic-the-Terrible with a huge dilemma. He had too few trained people to control the technology, and lost more personnel every time they attempted to activate the equipment; but he needed the technology to transport his army to Deep Wood. What was he to do? Then it occurred to him, and it was his last chance, he conscripted student scientists, engineers and wizards from the Martian University of Technology and Magic.” Zoë and Mathew listened attentively and Prince David stopped grumbling and turned his chair to face the Doctor.
“I’m sorry to say they lacked the practical technological experience needed for the task being asked of them and most died before they reached Deep Wood!
The handful of Eloi that did make it back to Mars unfortunately didn’t live for very long - usually only a few minutes, but long enough to tell Tragic-the-Terrible where I’d taken the wartlocks - although of course Tragic didn’t know it was me who evacuated the wartlocks to Deep Wood.”
“What killed them?” Zoë asked in a shaky voice. The Doctor sat silently, thoughtfully, for a few moments; he chose his words carefully; he did not want to distress Zoë more than was absolutely necessary in answering her question.
“The reason why they died,” he said slowly, “was because not enough of their body made it back home to support life; too much of them was missing when they materialised; they screamed their lungs out with the pain of materialising with, for instance, the bottom half of their body missing and trailing their internal organs; thankfully, if I can say that so casually, they died quickly from shock.” Zoë, Mathew, and Prince David slumped in their chairs, their eyes wide with disbelief that such an awful thing could happen. But it had, and it was better for them to accept it for what it was; that was a time of war and war is cruel and pitiless beyond imagination. War has no bounds – just ask the countless millions that died in war!
“What happened to Tragic-the-Terrible?” asked Prince David with an anxious look stamped upon his elfin face.
“And did he make it to Deep Wood?” Zoë asked; her voice betrayed her concern that he might’ve brought the awesome technology with him.
“Did we ever get back to Mars with Wartlock prisoners?” asked Prince David. He appeared to be oblivious to what the Doctor had just said, about Eloi returning in bits and pieces. And the Prince’s tone and mindset suggested he was far more interested with the success of the Eloi invasion of Kingdom, Deep Wood, than he was for the well-being of the Wartlock refugees, or anybody else for that matter.
“As far as I know, Tragic-the-Terrible never made it to Deep Wood,” said the Doctor, leaning towards Zoë. “With the best of his technical people dead or lost somewhere in space and time the technology was probably lost for ever; at least I sincerely hope that it was!” The Doctor sat in silence for a few minutes; he was in deep thought. The possibility that Tragic-the-Terrible was still alive and had possession of the technology and magic worried him enormously – and he had very good reason to be as time and future events will show!
“If Tragic-the-Terrible is still alive and if he has somehow managed to control the technology and magic then he could be anywhere in the universe; and at any given moment in time and space!” said the Doctor in a tone that betrayed his deep concern that might be the case. “But I’m resolved to find the answer to that question one way or another and very soon!” He then leaned towards Prince David and spoke. “And his current status might also shed some light on your present predicament?”
“How will you find Tragic-the-Terrible?” asked Zoë. “He could be anywhere in the universe as you said - if he’s still alive.” The Doctor nodded his understanding of that fact; but he had conjured up of a cunning plan.
“I’ll use the Time Bubble and the Gravitation Field Modulator; I’ll go back to Kingdom and follow Tragic-the-Terrible through time and space until I find him, be he alive or be he dead!” Having made the daring announcement the Doctor lapsed into deep thought once more. He shivered as he subconsciously tried to come to grips with the dilemma he was now faced with: What will I do when I find him? He said subconsciously. And what would be the knock-on-effect if I made the wrong decision; and could whatever I do be the instrument that initiates the destruction of the universe? The Doctor slumped deeper into his chair as if trying to shield himself from the questions. He didn’t know that Tragic-the-Terrible was already in Deep Wood!
“But, Doctor, one thousand years ago!” said Mathew in a sceptical tone. “Even royalty of the calibre of Tragic-the-Terrible, and his nibs here,” he said and cast a disparaging nod in the Prince’s direction, “couldn’t live that long, could they?” Prince David grinned and let off a string of raspberries for Mathew’s benefit.
“Thank you for your question Mathew; and thank you, Prince David, for your imaginative contribution; you must have really put a lot of effort into it." He turned his attention back to Mathew.
“That is a very good question Mathew, especially when you reflect upon the present-day lifespan of an ordinary English person: up to one hundred years, if you consider the age of our dear Queen Mother, may she rest in peace. But in the past, at the time when God walked amongst humans in Deep Wood and Eloi on Mars, the lifespan was much different than it is today; and even though the sons and daughters of God were not immortal, they, none-the-less, did live for a very long time indeed. You only have to look in the Old Testament, for evidence of that.”
“What was their life-span in Deep Wood?” asked Zoë, wide-eyed with curiosity.
The Doctor reached for his English copy of the Bible and flicked through the pages of the Old Testament. “According to this account, Adam lived 930 years; Kenan lived 910 years; and Jared 962 years.” But the Doctor’s historic account of longevity paled into insignificance when he craned his body towards the children and, beaming from ear to ear, announced: “I’m more than 3.5 billion years old!”
As was to be expected the Doctor’s announcement astonished the children no end. “Are you serious about that?” said Zoë, laughing; the Doctor was not immune to telling a porky every now and then – and more frequently as he got older!
The Doctor laughed quietly at Zoë’s insinuation. “I was here, in merry old
“Can we go back in time please, Doctor?” Zoë pleaded excitedly. Mathew was also over the moon at the prospect of going back in time; however, his main interest lay in the expectation of shooting a tyrannosaurus rex with Basil’s mighty double-barrel, Nitro Express elephant gun, each cartridge held a teacup of gunpowder; he flapped around the room like no self-respecting dinosaur ever would.
“And can we go into the future too?” Mathew asked excitedly. The Doctor laughed and bobbed his head. “We’ll leave that event for your next holidays.”
“Hooray,” yelled Mathew enthusiastically.
“But what if we meet ourselves in the future, or in the past for that matter, and witness something horrible that involved us?” said Zoë.
“Yes, that is a distinct and dangerous possibility,” said the Doctor. “So we’ll have to plan our trip very carefully indeed.”
The Doctor fixed his eyes on Mathew and chuckled under his breath. “I wouldn’t for a moment expect to see you mixed up in any wicked goings-on, would I, Mathew?” Mathew grinned and mumbled something unintelligible under his breath; Zoë giggled at what Mathew had said and Prince David scowled at everybody.
Taking advantage of a temporary halt in conversation, Zoë quickly returned to the topic of longevity and the Bible, there was still a very important and nagging feminist question that she felt needed addressing.
“What about women, Doctor? Does the Bible say how long they lived for?” The Doctor’s lips stretched into a smile; he got the distinct impression she wasn’t particularly pleased about something to do with the status of women in society.
“Yes, you’re right, of course, Zoë,” he said cheerfully. “Women do appear to have been discriminated against in the Bible. And I agree with you the Bible was written in a style that we would frown upon today as being politically incorrect; but that is in truth simply a reflection of society and culture as it existed at that time. Fortunately, we are more understanding of our social needs, feelings, and political niceties these days, Zoë. But let me tell you why it was that women were treated so shabbily in the Bible.” Mathew and Prince David immediately groaned; Zoë glanced angrily at them; and the Doctor ignored them.
“As you already know, Zoë, the sectarian manuscripts that eventually found their way into the book that we know as the Bible were written on animal skins at least three thousand years ago in ancient
The Scrolls were subsequently removed from
They were written many centuries before the birth of Jesus Christ and were collectively called The Dead Sea Scrolls by archaeologists.
But the word of God, written by the hand of man, had to keep up with the times as happens to this very day; accordingly, in order to ensure the Scriptures remained relevant to changing social and political conditions, many of the texts were removed, new ones were substituted, and others rewritten or modified in order to suit the political, religious and social needs of the day; so the message in the Bible today is not the same as it was when the manuscripts were first put together! It should also remember that ancient Middle Eastern empires were in the main ruled by men; it was men who made all the important decisions; and it was they who backed-up their convictions by waging war; they were the superior beings, at least in public!” He chuckled quietly. He then went on to make it abundantly clear that male chauvinism wasn’t universal at that time!
“Some cultures, however, did have women’s rights; and some were matriarchal in their structure. There are many examples of this in the ancient world: for example the Minoan Culture of
“But the Bible is still being printed in the same sexist style as it was then!” Zoë said heatedly; “and that’s illegal under English Common Law!” Zoë made a mental note to send the Archbishop of Canterbury a red-hot fizzer at her earliest convenience. The Doctor smiled so broadly that his teeth flashed when he moved his head.
“Faith, hope, and charity are the most important words ever written by the hand of man, as expressed by God in the Bible” he said. “And charity is the key word of the three. And they’re the most powerful three words in the English language. So don’t despair, Zoë; the changes that you seek will surely follow in the fullness of time!”
“Pity Tragic-the-Terrible didn’t read the Bible,” Mathew said, and cast a fleeting look in the prince’s direction.
Prince David darted his snake-like green eyes from person to person. “What is the Bible?” he said brusquely and pursed his lips like a petulant child.
Zoë was surprised by the prince’s lack of knowledge of the Bible’s existence. “I’ll lend you my copy,” she said smiling. “It’ll answer all of your questions about God, Creation, and man’s tumultuous early history on earth. The English King James version is a really good read.”
The Doctor swept his eyes over the children and smiled warmly. “Would you like to come with me to Kingdom tomorrow morning?” he asked; he knew full-well what their answer would be.
“Yes, please,” shouted Zoë and Mathew; Prince David sat emotionally detached; he had no desire to go back to Kingdom; and the wizards had warned him his life was in great danger should he ever leave the confines of the Castle.
“Wartlock got your tongue?” said Mathew with a grin.
“Thank you, Mathew,” the Doctor said. “I know the prince has a very good reason for not coming with us to Kingdom; and it’s not a matter of him not wanting to come, it’s too dangerous for him to leave the Castle at this time.” The prince nodded and glowered at Mathew; he didn’t speak.
“But you’ll have to get your parents’ permission if you’re going to accompany me,” said the Doctor with a nod. Zoë and Mathew immediately pelted from the room.
Laughing quietly, the Doctor turned his attention to Prince David; the latter sat next to the fire, his face bathed in a dull red glow. The Doctor pulled his chair closer.
“Zoë told me that you’re unfamiliar with the social structure in Kingdom?” he said in a compassionate voice. “And she also said you can’t think of a single reason why there would be social discord in a country as rich in creature comforts as is Kingdom.”
Prince David nodded. “But I’ve recently given some thought to the subject,” he said pointing to his fat lip and two black eyes.
The Doctor laughed quietly. “Well in that case let me tell you what happened in Kingdom in a little more detail; Mathew’s a little too excitable when it comes to in-depth explanations, I see.” Prince David grumbled something incomprehensible, but he used the ‘f’ word an awful lot!
“As you already know the war in Kingdom on Mars raged for many centuries and caused the death of an estimated fifty million Eloi and Wartlock. And I also told you I saved the Wartlock from extinction by transporting them as refugees to Deep Wood,
“Yes I know all of that stuff!” the prince snapped impatiently.
The Doctor turned his chair to face Prince David a little more squarely; he fixed his eyes on the prince’s narrow face. “And they continued the war in Deep Wood; and beneath
“Enslaved!” shouted Prince David. “Where’s the proof of that?”
“I don’t have any written proof, if that’s what you want,” he said in a stern voice, “but I can assure you that my word is beyond reproach; and I witnessed it all!”
The Doctor’s stern reply made it abundantly clear to the Prince that he’d overstepped his position as the Doctor’s guest in the Castle.
“I’m very sorry, Doctor” he said glumly, like a reprimanded child, “I won’t interrupt you again.”
The Doctor continued. “Some Wartlock slaves were sent to work on state farms, others had to toil in state mines, and others operated public utilities. The more fortunate wartlocks, those who looked more like Eloi, worked as domestic servants; even Wartlock children as young as eight or nine years old were forced to work from dawn to dusk in coal mines, and many died while they were still only children from diseases like Black Lung and Tuberculosis brought on by the terrible dusty conditions that they were forced to work under.”
Zoë and Mathew entered the room; the Doctor gestured for them to resume their seats.
“And the irony is,” he continued, “the Wartlock and the Eloi were once allies, and they fought and died side-by-side to defeat the mighty centaurs who threatened to conquer and enslave all of the inhabitants of Kingdom, on Mars!”
“But I’ve never seen a Wartlock; where are they, Doctor?” asked the Prince.
“You have never seen a Wartlock because you were prevented from ever seeing them!” the Doctor replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What do you mean by prevented?” said the Prince. “And I don’t need to remind you that I’m heir to the Throne of Kingdom, and nobody would ever dare to prevent me from doing or seeing anything!”
“Thank you for reminding me of your most exalted position in Kingdom society, Prince David,” said the Doctor sarcastically. “And I’m also delighted to acknowledge your exemplary education and upbringing with respect for your elders. Your parents must be very proud of you; and the people of Kingdom are no doubt very excited at the prospect of you becoming their king one day!” The Doctor may have been a little too tongue-in-cheek on this occasion, but what he said to the Prince had to be said for his own good. He continued:
“The reason why you never saw a wartlock is because they are restricted to the Twilight Zone, the fringes of Kingdom; for a Wartlock to be caught outside of that Zone meant instant death without trial! That’s why you never saw a Wartlock!”
“Not quite civilised Westminster Common Law, the backbone of all decent law systems throughout the universe, eh?” said Mathew with a belittling grin. “Anyway, Boy Blunder here was probably more interested in playing with his little fairy mates, I bet.”
“And talking about fairies, Doctor,” Mathew chuckled, “Prince David’s fairies told him Deep Wood’s full of centaurs, wartlocks, and also his uncle, Prince Dragon, and they’re all out to get him!” Mathew quaked with laughter for some reason best known to him.
“I hardly said that!” Prince David snapped back. “I said there were some centaurs and wartlocks looking for me in Deep Wood. And that Prince Dragon had vanished from Kingdom and was probably in Deep Wood. I said nothing about any of them being out to get me!”
“Just a matter of time, mate!” said Mathew.
“Who is the Lord of Hell? And where does he, Tragic-the-Terrible, and Merlin fit into the scheme of things, Doctor?” asked Zoë. The Doctor thought long and hard before answering; it’s not that he didn’t know the answer, but rather how he was going to answer it.
“The answer is rather complicated, Zoë,” he said in a slow, sincere voice. “And I think that both the prince and Mathew should take particular note of what I’m about to say. Tragic-the-Terrible is the Lord of Hell. But his part in the theatre of life, and that of Merlin, is yet to be played out!”
***
“It’s time for bed.” Caroline said, entering the room.
“But it’s still early.” Zoë protested.
“And we’re on holidays,” Mathew objected.
“Well, Prince David is ready for bed, aren’t you?” said Caroline; she raised her eyebrows questioningly. The prince nodded.
“This has definitely been the most eventful, exhausting, and unpleasant day in my entire life,” he said, and yawned deeply. And rounding on Mathew, he added: “I’ll probably need all of my strength to survive tomorrow.” Having got that off his chest, he pulled himself from his chair and sloped off silently towards his chamber.
“He didn’t even say goodnight; how uncouth of him.” said Zoë in a reprimanding tone.
“A wartlock probably bit him on the bum.” said Mathew; “and he probably had a public school education as well.” The Doctor laughed, Mathew sounded so much like his father.
“Your mother’s right, however, Zoë and Mathew; it’s nearly
Having said that, the Doctor tugged himself from his comfortable chair and, bidding the children goodnight, sloped after the prince; he was followed closely by Zoë, Mathew, and their mother.
Zoë and Mathew had adjoining bedrooms; they were much the same in size and were furnished in much the same manner: a magnificent, king-sized, four-poster bed complete with red velvet hanging curtains, several antique lounge chairs, a divan, and a long oak table upon which rested a platter of fresh fruit. A thick woollen carpet covered the wooden floor and a crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling.
The only difference between the two rooms was that in Zoë’s room, old portraits of ladies-in-waiting smiled down at her as she prepared for bed; but stuck-up old farts-in-waiting looked down their long noses contemptuously at Mathew; the portrait of the fat knight had already warned them of his imminent arrival. Mathew scowled as he critically examined each portrait.
“I’ve never seen such a miserable bunch of social misfits, rejects, and losers in my entire life!” he shouted at the squirming portraits. “In fact, I’m sorely tempted to paint a big moustache and goatee on each and every one of you, and that includes that fat tart in the hallway!”
Satisfied with his disruptive achievement, Mathew smiled contentedly and settled himself into his comfortable bed and fell fast asleep. Minutes later, at least that’s how it felt to Mathew, he was torn from his sleep by the ear-splitting ring of the breakfast bell; it was being energetically wielded by an overly-enthusiastic elf hell-bent on promotion.
“I’ll shoot the bugger!” shouted Mathew and, half asleep, pulled himself from his nice warm bed and stumbled off towards the kitchen; he was guided by the sound of the clanging and Odin barking.
Prince David, Zoë, and the rest of the family, including the Goblin-fly and Mr Thomas, were already happily eating breakfast when Mathew, dishevelled to the point of looking downright scruffy, fell through the open doorway; nobody took any notice of him, or attempted to assist him as he slowly made his way over to the breakfast table; he plonked himself down next to the prince, who turned his nose up with disgust.
Odin rushed over and plopped himself next to Mathew. “What do you want, Odin?” he growled suspiciously. Odin growled back and fixed his eyes on the cup of tea that Mathew was about to taste. “Ah, so you want my tea, do you, Odin?” he said in a measured tone, and temptingly took a long, noisy sip of the sweet, pleasant beverage. Saliva poured from Odin’s mouth. Grinning, Mathew lowered his cup. “I’ll tell you what, Odin,” he said in a challenging tone; “I’ll give you the rest of my tea if you bring me that mad bell-ringing elf.” Odin stared at Mathew like a cerebrally-challenged Rottweiler; he was unsure what it was that Mathew wanted him to do.
“Why do you want the elf?” asked the prince between mouthfuls of food.
Mathew laughed and fixed his eyes on the wretched elf so that there would be no confusion about who he was referring to. “I want to help Basil castrate him first thing after breakfast!”
All talk in the kitchen suddenly came to an abrupt end and the room was plunged into silence, that is if you ignore the high-pitched cry the bell-ringing elf made as he fainted; and the shouts and squeals of his mates as they jostled about and scuttled from the room in a panic; and the loud gasps from Violet, Caroline and Zoë. Everyone else just sighed; however, Basil and his little mate shook with laughter.
Breakfast consisted of a selection of toast, crispy English bacon, rich golden English free-range eggs, fried tomatoes, pork and beef sausages with cheese and spices running down their middle, and baked beans in thick home-made tomato sauce. All this was washed down with sweet Earl Grey tea.
“Are you coming with us, Prince David?” asked Zoë politely; the prince was munching on his fifth homemade pork sausage.
“I wouldn’t dream of going anywhere with your lot,” he said. “Anyway the fairies told me to stay at the Castle.” Then, fixing his cold eyes on Mathew, he said, “And there are a lot of queer buggers out there, you know; and most of them are out to get me!” Mathew laughed until Zoë gave him a sharp elbow to his side. They hurriedly finished their breakfast and minutes later were pelting towards the secret garden; at least that is what the Doctor called it.
“Look at that,” said Mathew as he skidded to a halt and Zoë ran into him; they gazed in wonder at the object hanging before them, it was the shape of a thick magnifying lens and as big as a caravan; it stood on three long, tapered, metal legs.
“It’s a flying saucer!” Mathew yelled excitedly and threw himself upon the narrow ladder that connected it to the ground. The Doctor poked his head out of a porthole and beckoned for them to come aboard. They rushed up the ladder and jumped into the cabin. “It’s a space ship!” Mathew cried out loud, and cast his eyes over the flashing lights, numerous dials, and instruments. The Doctor chuckled. “It’s a solar-powered electric airship; it’s my latest invention! And it can take us anywhere in the solar system!” He laughed happily. “But today we are going to
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