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From The Stansilaw Chronicles
"T h e G u a r d i a n P r i n c i p l e"
written by Chris Heffernan
Splitting Headache.
Jonathan Turner sat quietly in his seat as the subway began to thin out. He looked up at the map even though he knew he only had four stops to go. He had ridden the subway so many times he could tell what stop he was at simply from the sounds and smells. He closed his eyes and grimaced as another wave of sharp pain cut across his head. He had been getting a lot of headaches lately it seemed, and today’s was a beauty.
Another stop. Soon he would be home and lying in his bed after popping a few Tylenols.
Did they really need the heat on in June? Jonathan could feel the sweat building up under his arms and on his forehead. He loosened his tie for the eighth time, and adjusted his position slightly. His head protested violently at the movement.
Not much further now. Bed. Tylenol.
A searing white flash of pain.
Jonathan yelped. He looked around at the other passengers, slightly embarrassed. There weren’t many others aboard, thankfully. He closed his eyes and took easy breaths. It was getting hotter.
Flash...
Jonathan ground his teeth in an attempt to stop himself from yelling out. He stopped all but a muffled moan. This was ridiculous. The pain was...oh no...
Flash...Flash...FLASH!
Jonathan’s head snapped back against the glass, and his body began to convulse. He dropped his backpack and his hands went wild.
Two of the passengers, teens who were obviously returning from a soccer practice judging by their attire, moved over to help Jonathan.
‘He’s having a seizure,’ one of them said.
‘Hold him down,’ said the other.
The other passengers looked on.
The two boys held on to Jonathan as his seizure took hold. One of the boys noticed blood starting to drip out of Jonathan’s nose and mouth.
‘Does anyone know what to do?’ someone asked.
The seizure lost intensity and Jonathan started to calm down. His eyes were still closed but the bloodflow had stopped. Just as it appeared the worst was over, Jonathan’s head opened up.
The two boys jumped back in shock. Everyone stared; transfixed by what they saw.
The top of Jonathan’s head split across his scalp and popped open. From within came a brilliant white light. The light was captivating, hypnotic. It was so mesmerizing as to smother the oddity of the sight. The light covered the car.
Flash.
Blood sprayed across the glass directly across from Jonathan. One of the boys looked to where his companion had been standing just moments before, but he was no longer there. Or rather his upper body was disturbingly absent. All that was left were his legs, which toppled over in their own time. His upper body was splattered around the wall, glass and seat behind him. The boy looked back to Jonathan where a long tentacle which looked like it was made of metal was retreating back into the recesses of his open head.
Another tentacle shot out, this time from Jonathan’s suddenly outstretched arm. The tentacle had
a circular blade of some sort on it’s end and the blade whirred as it ripped into the boy’s stomach. It was over rather quickly.
The other passengers were in a panic. In the three seconds it took for the two boys to be killed, they had jumped up and began to run to the back of the car. One had the presence of mind to look for the emergency stop switch. She turned to find it and saw that Jonathan had stood up and was facing the group of frightened passengers. He didn’t resemble the young man known as Jonathan anymore. Instead he was a vaguely humanoid mass of whirling metal tentacles, blades, and saws. The monster looked much bigger than could possibly fit into the subway car. The white light seemed to give it that effect.
The woman spotted the switch and reached for it. She tried to push it, but something was preventing the mental signal from getting to her arm from her brain. Oh, her arm was severed and lying at her feet. That was probably it.
The train screamed through the tunnels.
The subway finally came to a stop and the doors opened. Jonathan stepped out. He looked like Jonathan again, but he wasn’t Jonathan. He would never again be Jonathan.
He looked around and then down at his hands which he flexed. The subway doors chimed and closed behind him. The train moved along.
The thing that was Jonathan Turner walked up the stairs and out into the night.
For it had a job to do.
* * * *
I Love New York In June.
‘You sure we safe here?’ Lee Liu asked.
Stan nodded. Lee Liu was understandably worried. He came from a period where time travel was a very dangerous business. Stan and his companions had narrowly escaped future Gallifreyan forces and Lee Liu had lost his time-travelling ship in the process. He had to rely on Stan the Time Lord, now.
‘Of course we’re safe,’ Stan said, not taking his bespectacled eyes off the road map.
‘How can you be sure?’ George, the thirty-something computer geek asked.
Stan looked up from the map at last, a bemused grin on his lips. ‘We’re in New York,’ he said.
‘Access to any planet in space in any time in that planet’s history, and we keep ending up in New York, late twentieth century,’ Natasha said half under her breath. She had been with Stan the longest, and she had truly thought their adventures had ended when the Gallifreyans had tried to take Stan and the TARDIS into the future to stand trial for Celestial Interference. Stan’s quick thinking, along with Lee Liu’s time-travelling organ had allowed them to escape in the nick of time.
To New York City.
‘Early twenty-first actually,’ Stan said, consulting his megachronometer. ‘June 7, 2001.’
He took a deep breath of city air, and coughed lightly.
‘I Love New York in June.’
Stan headed out of the alley. The others, as is their lot in life, followed.
* * * *
I Have Crossed Oceans Of Time To Find You.
BEGIN SEARCH : Running...
RESULTS : No data found.
<enter> for new parameters...
Password : xxxxx-xx-xxxxxx-x/xx-xxxx
ACCESS GRANTED
BEGIN SEARCH : Running...
RESULTS : Match found. Pick destination source and enter password for download.
DOWNLOADING.
The long metal cylinder slid out of the interface and back into Turner’s arm. It appeared human once again. If Turner were still human, it would have smiled.
A red light began to flash, illuminating Turner’s face. It turned and watched a monitor as the complex was surrounded by more humans. They were heavily armed.
Turner stood and walked to the exit, past the pools of blood and mangled body parts of the security guards and technicians it had killed less than fifteen minutes ago. The tap-tap-tap-tap of it’s cheap dress shoes eerily matched the flashing red light of the alarm.
The door to the complex opened and the marine’s weapons began spitting fire. Turner took the hits, staggered backwards a few feet and fell onto his back, motionless. A few of the marines rushed forward and inspected him.
‘He’s dead,’ one reported.
The commander of the squad came forward.
‘I want a full sweep of the inside. There’s probably more of them. I want this by the book gentlemen.’
The marines went inside the complex. They found the carnage, but no trace of more intruders or any espionage.
Some while later, the body of the intruder was being bagged and loaded onto a truck.
‘What’s the deal with that guy?’ a bureaucrat asked. ‘He looks like a data entry clerk, not a spy.’
‘I don’t know, but don’t worry,’ the commander said. ‘We’ll find out.’
Inside the back of the truck, the body shook as the truck rumbled off. Deep inside the body of Jonathan Turner, something waited.
Headlines.
‘This is ridiculous,’ Natasha was saying. ‘I just want a cup of coffee. Plain, black, hot. Is that so hard to comprehend?’
The waiter’s face was blank. He had just run through a list of espressos, double-lattes and cappuccinos, but Natasha would have none of it.
‘Just point to the list,’ Stan suggested helpfully. ‘Let your subconscious guide you.’
The waiter blinked.
‘Oh all right.’
Natasha pointed. Her finger landed on "The New Yorker". The description read : Plain, black, hot. She completely failed to notice.
The waiter turned on his heel and left them alone at their table. The wind was cool and it helped diminish the hot stench of the cars that rolled by just 3 metres away.
‘Look at this,’ George said, unfolding the newspaper he was reading. ‘Looks like New York has a serial killer on the loose.’
Stan took the paper from him and within seconds was completely engrossed in the story.
‘This time stink,’ Lee Liu said, crinkling up his nose. ‘Barbaric period. Technology pathetic. Food no so good either.’
Lee Liu pushed his plate away and sighed.
The waiter returned and brought them their drinks. They drank.
Stan lowered the paper at last. He had a far away look. Even more far away than normal.
‘What’s wrong?’ Natasha asked. Stan didn’t reply.
She looked to the newspaper and read the headline of the story Stan and George had been reading.
‘Butcher of Lafayette’
Eight People Dismembered in Subway
When she looked up, Stan was putting on his coat and leading the others away.
‘Come on,’ he mumbled.
Natasha dropped some money on the table and hurried after them.
Upon arriving at the TARDIS, Stan disappeared into the myriad corridors beyond the control room. He was gone for hours.
Natasha spent most of that time sitting in a plush chair by the console, writing in her diary.
Lee Liu had a makeshift workshop tucked away in an alcove to the far end of the control room and he was busy fiddling with pieces of equipment; making an adjustment here, adding a bit there. George stood behind him and watched.
‘I’ve never seen equipment like that before,’ George said. ‘Is it from the TARDIS?’
Lee Liu looked aggravated.
‘No it not from TARDIS,’ he said mockingly. ‘It spare part from my machine.’
‘I thought it was destroyed...’
‘Not spare part.’
‘So what are you doing? Trying to rig up another organ that travels through time?’
Lee Liu looked up at this.
‘Listen to me, you stupid, stupid man. This equipment far beyond your comprehension. You are primitive caveman next to triumphs of Zigma Era. Why don’t you go sit down before you trigger massive explosion.’
George shrugged and walked back to the main console. He had been studying the controls of the TARDIS whenever he could ever since joining the crew, but he still couldn’t make heads or tails of them. Natasha had shown him the basics; how to open the door, check the scanner, activate the monitor, but he felt that was all she knew. Stan kept everything very secretive.
George felt Stan didn’t know much more than them.
Natasha watched Lee Liu working with his bits of machinery. She turned her gaze to George and had to surpress a giggle when he kept getting the same ‘Please do not push that button again’ warning everytime he touched something. She turned her attention back to the diary.
...I wonder how he will cope without me. Not that I necessarily plan on leaving him anytime soon. But I’m tired. So tired. The time-traveller’s life is not an easy one, and certainly not a glamouress one. Yes, the more I think about it, the more I know he will be lost without me. How can I leave him? He’s got a wealth of knowledge and wisdom in that head of his but it has the hardest time coming out in proper order. I met his other selves not long ago, and they seemed to have it together...in a general sort of way at least. But not my Stan. And how can I leave him with these two? I don’t trust Lee Liu at all. Stan says the Zigma experiment was mostly a failure and is very dangerous, but Lee Liu thinks of it as the human race’s crowning glory. He’s dangerous. And George...poor George. He’s very intelligent but he has no common sense or personable skills. I sigh, for I must continue to help Stan find whatever it is he’s looking for, and perhaps in doing so, I’ll find what I’m looking for...
Stan barged into the control room and went directly to his controls. He barely noticed George as he punched in some controls and the TARDIS dematerialized.
‘Where are we going?’ George asked.
Stan was frowning.
‘What?’
‘Where are we going?’ Natasha reiterated, placing her diary on a table and joining Stan and George at the console. Lee Liu came over, wiping his hands on a rag.
‘Ah. I think you should all sit down. I have a tale to tell.’
Vampires.
Stan began his tale.
‘Millions of years ago in the Time of Legend, my people were at war with the Great Vampires.’
‘Vampires?’ George asked, chuckling lightly.
‘Vampires,’ Stan repeated, gravely.
George became silent.
‘This war was stalemated for many centuries. A group of my people, members of the Academy of the Patrexes were great mathematicians and artists. They created a weapon known as an N-form. The N-form existed in a pocket dimension, specially created as its lair. The N-form could enter the physical world through a dimensional vent, usually an engram inside a host creature’s brain. The N-form needed a host to properly function. It would enter the brain, taking over, remaining tethered to its hull in the dimensional tuck.
‘The Patrexes coded the N-form with a simple program called The Imperative or more commonly The Guardian Principle. The Guardian Principle is basically a two-part Prime Directive : Protect Gallifrey. Destroy Vampires. These were monstrously destructive weapons, and the Time Lords quickly won the war.
‘Unfortunately, the N-forms were so efficient, that thousands upon thousands of them were left over after the war, and in truly Patrexian fashion, were not all accounted for. They’ve popped up here and there wreaking havoc all in the name of the Guardian Principle. It’s amazing how many loopholes you can find in a simple four-word program. N-forms would make good lawyers...’
Stan paused.
‘Why are you telling us this?’ Natasha asked.
‘I believe there is an N-form on Earth right now, as we speak.’
‘What?!’ George said.
‘Looking for vampires?’ Natasha asked.
‘I don’t know. Perhaps it’s just trying to survive, the only way it knows how. But I fear it may be much, much more.’
The TARDIS made it’s re-materialization noise and then went quiet.
‘We’re here,’ Stan said.
‘How do you stop it?’ Lee Liu asked.
‘Well at least the Patrexes got that right. Each N-form is comprised of a series of mathematical notations, called the Patrexian numbers. If we read off the numbers, we shut down it’s core.’
‘That simple?’ Natasha asked.
‘Well, not really,’ Stan replied.
‘I didn’t think so,’ Natasha retorted.
Stan frowned.
‘The Patrexian Numbers are very long, and each N-form has a unique Number. I believe I’ve calculated the correct code for our visiting friend, but there’s only one way to find out. George,’
George walked over to Stan who was holding a computer pad to him.
‘I need you to input the numbers. Here on this pad. Only when I say though, alright. And in this order here.’
‘What are you going to do?’ George asked.
‘Distract it,’ Stan said.
‘Where is it?’ Natasha asked.
‘Nearby,’ Stan said. ‘I’ve been following it’s trail of bloodshed. We’ll need to check a few things out, but I believe I know where it’s going.’
‘Where?’ Natasha asked, but Stan didn’t answer. He was looking off into the distance.
Over the time Natasha had travelled with Stan, she had seen him run the gamut of emotions; frustration, worry, joy, consternation, speechlessness, anger...
But this was the first time she had seen him show this emotion.
Fear.
Devil’s Rock.
The Turner N-form stepped out of the driver’s seat of the army truck. It looked around the bleak landscape and zoned in on a rocky outcropping approximately 3.21 kilometres to the north-east. The ground between was impassable by truck. It would have to walk.
In the back of the truck, the bodies of two soldiers were attracting flies.
The N-form took one last look around, and walked towards Devil’s Rock and its destiny.
* * * * *
‘You see, moron,’ Sheriff Carlysle said, shaking his head at Luke, his deputy. ‘The sharks ate some of the people, so instead of looking out for hungry sharks, they just have to look out for sharks.’
Luke nodded.
‘I’m not much good for math,’ the deputy said.
Carlysle sighed. ‘It ain’t got nothing to do with math you...’
The Sheriff was interupted as the front door to the small police station opened and two people walked in. One was a man of average height is his mid-forties, the other was a good-looking younger woman.
Carlysle shook his head one last time at Luke, sucked in his gut, brushed back his greasy hair with his hand, and approached the two.
‘Can I help you folks?’ he asked.
‘You’re the Sheriff?’ the man asked.
‘That’s right.’
‘Ah, I see. Well, you see we’re looking for a spot called Devil’s Rock.’
The Sheriff nodded. Damn tourists again, he thought, Never anyone crying bloody murder. He sighed.
‘Yeah, Devil’s Rock. Quite the tourist attraction. Seems most people only ever come to Shiprock to see the UFO’s anymore.’
‘UFO’s?’ the woman asked.
‘Yeah, yeah. Shiprock is the hotbed for UFO’s in New Mexico. ‘Specially out there at Devil’s Rock. Ain’t that why you’re here?’
‘Yes, of course it is,’ the man answered. ‘Why else would we be here?’
The Sheriff sized them up.
‘Take the highway north. After about ten minutes you’ll see the mountains begin to the west. Take Access Road 7 and you’ll be within a good spit of Devil’s Rock. You can’t miss it. Damn thing looks like a demon with horns.’
‘Thank you very much,’ the man said and he and the woman left.
Carlysle tipped his hat at them and turned back to Luke.
‘Damn tourists. Probably get bit by rattlers. That guy kind of looked like Roberto Benigni, huh?’
‘I don’t like that classical music much, boss,’ Luke said.
Carlysle shook his head.
* * * * *
‘UFO’s?’ Natasha asked when they were clear of the police station.
Stan nodded. ‘Apparently Devil’s Rock has been known to exhibit strange lights and sounds and other phenomenon related to UFO sightings.’
‘Is that why the N-form is heading there? To track down UFO’s?’
‘No, no,’ Stan said. ‘I don’t believe there are any UFO’s there. However Devil’s Rock is a hotbed for strange activity, as the Sheriff pointed out. It’s a highly concentrated temporal nexus gateway. One of many on Earth. If I’m correct, the N-form is heading there to greet some of it’s friend’s. We have to stop it.’
They arrived at the TARDIS which was standing beside a disused gas station. The shape of the magician’s cabinet looked completely conspicious beside the oil drum and old Coke machine.
Lee Liu and George were waiting for them.
‘Where to?’ George asked.
‘Up the highway a few miles,’ Stan replied. ‘Who’s up for a brisk walk?’
The others mumbled as the group started up the highway. As they left the small town of Shiprock, New Mexico, George looked at the highway sign. It read :
Highway 666
‘Nice,’ he mumbled.
Is There Anybody Out There?
The Turner N-form stood before the small opening in the ground. The foothills around him jutted up towards rocky peaks. The wind howled around the crevasse and whipped about the N-form, but it paid no attention. It raised its stolen human limbs wide into the air and opened it’s maw. Brilliant white light shot forth, covering the area. The body of Jonathan Turner was engulfed by the light.
A second light appeared deep within the crack in the ground. It swirled slowly up, and out of the hole, joining with the light produced by the N-form. At the centre of the convergence a black light appeared, and a portal began to form.
‘Stop!’ a voice rang out.
The N-form detected four life forms approaching its position. Without turning it registered three humans and something else.
A Time Lord.
Stan rushed up to within ten feet of the thing and shielded his eyes with the back of his hand.
‘You must stop! The war is over. The Time of Legend ended millions of years ago. You have no place here!’
A metal tentacle shot out of the back of the N-form and wrapped around Stan, lifting him high into the air. More tentacles were shooting out of the centre of white light. One grabbed a hold of Natasha and another grabbed George. They were lifted high into the air as well. Lee Liu had ducked behind a rock. He sat with his back to the rock, trying to blot out the noise the black light was emitting. It was an unearthly noise; it jarred Lee Liu to the soul. It was the sound of Time being ripped apart. Lee Liu was all too familiar with this sound.
The tentacles began to squeeze and the screams of Stan, Natasha and George were intermingled with the din of the opening portal. George lost his grip on the data pad and it fell to the ground with an inaudible clunk.
The portal opened and Stan strained his neck to watch. His eyes opened in fear as he could see all of time and space within that doorway. Natasha and George fell unconscious when they saw what was beyond; their minds unable to handle the scope.
Stan looked down and was surprised to see Lee Liu crawling towards the data pad. If the N-form saw him, he was dead. Stan tried to buy him some time.
‘What do you think...to accomplish...hmmm?’ Stan said through gritted teeth. The pain was excrutiating. He knew the N-form was just holding them until the portal was fully opened, rather than waste energy on killing them.
The N-form didn’t answer.
‘I’m sure you could have met.....ughhh....your friends at a......Time of Legend reunion......or something.’
Lee Liu had the pad and was busily punching in the string of numbers attached to it.
Stan fought to stay conscious.
‘You see......a while ago I was.....chopping down that tree when.....all of a sudden it began to rain.....’
Stan’s vision started to go black around the edges.
Lee Liu held the pad aloft and punched in the last series of numbers. He held the pad in victory...
The N-form stopped emitting the white light and stood before the black portal. A trail of light led into the crevasse. The N-form turned and looked at Lee Liu.
‘Oh no,’ Stan said.
Lee Liu looked at the pad. He looked at the N-form, now in the shape of a young human male with metal tentacles sticking out of it in all directions. It hadn’t worked; the N-form was still functioning. He ran back behind the rock.
The N-form turned and stared into the void. The sound of Eternity was deafening.
Seconds passed.
Minutes.
Stan dropped in and out of consciousness as the strange monstrosity stood before the gate, holding him and his friends hostage.
After what seemed an eternity, the N-form released it’s grip on them and they fell heavily to the ground. The Turner N-form fell to it’s knees, never taking it’s eyes off the portal. It knelt there, motionless.
Stan recovered his bearings and moved slowly over to the N-form. It looked completely human again, apart from it’s very pale skin and partially torn clothes. It’s dead eyes stared into the void. Stan waved his hand in front of it’s face. Then he held his head at an angle as if listening for signs of life.
‘It did work!’ Lee Liu said, emerging from behind the rock.
Natasha and George were coming around. Stan helped them to their feet.
‘No,’ he said. ‘It shut itself down. Permanently.’
‘I don’t understand,’ Natasha said, holding her throbbing head.
‘The N-form opened a portal that would allow any N-form from anywhere in time and space to join it here. And none came. Either they are finally all destroyed, or perhaps they have adapted much like this one did, but decided they would be better off on their own.’
Stan took one last look at the kneeling Turner.
‘We didn’t kill it,’ he said. ‘It died of loneliness.’
* * * *
Tea?
The TARDIS was once again flying through the vortex. Lee Liu was working on his experiment. George was sitting back having a vodka and coke with Natasha. Stan was at the controls, once again pushing a ridiculous number of buttons and flicking even more toggles and switches.
‘Right,’ Stan said. ‘Who wants tea? I know this great spot.’
‘Stan, you’re not trying to take us on another vacataion?’ Natasha asked. ‘That’s just asking for trouble.’
Stan smiled.
‘This time,’ he promised. ‘Nothing can possibly go wrong.’
Stan unwound his crossed fingers, brought his hand out from behind his back, and set the final coordinates.
Stay tuned for the next adventure From The Stanislaw Chronicles :
‘One Final Requiem’
Stan must keep an old promise and it brings the TARDIS crew face to face with an ancient enemy know only as E.L.