The War of Tegan's Telegraph. By Clive May (clive@cj4386.demon.co.uk) http://www.cj4386.demon.co.uk ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The copy right of all things pertaining to the concept and characters of Dr Who is the property of the BBC. This story is a work of fan fiction; it has been written simply for the pleasure it gave me in writing it; and no money has or will change hands with respect to the story. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Ace gazed up at the twice live size representation of the pretty woman with brown curly hair. The facsimile was dressed in a purple air stewardess uniform, and was holding up a rolled up copy of the Daily Telegraph. It was dated 1 April 1983. Ace frowned, for the woman did not look at all like a monster; and yet there was something about her which rang a bell in Ace's mind. Ace glanced at the plaque and read aloud: "Tegan Jovanka." Then it came to her... This Jovanka woman had travelled with the Doctor once, long ago, with his Fourth, or was it his Fifth, incarnation? Ace began to wonder what one of the Doctor's companions was doing in this weird park dedicated to all manner of mass murderers, megalomaniac monsters, dictators and the like. She glanced round for the Doctor. He was a few yards further along the gravel walk, annoying a Cyberman exhibit by jabbing at it with his rolled brolly, and then withdrawing the brolly just as the statue came to life. "Hey, Prof!" she yelled; "you never told me you travelled with a megalomaniac murderer?" The Doctor's questioning glance passed over Ace, and on to the exhibit. Ace could have sworn that he paled. The next moment, he was hurrying up to her. He grabbed an arm and began to hustle her away from the exhibit. "Come along, Ace," he said; "the park is about to close. We have to leave immediately." "Get orf!" Ace yelled. She shoved him away, glaring at him. "The park's not closing for hours," she pointed out. Ace crossed her arms, and asked; "so, what did she do?" The Doctor looked distinctly shifty. He prodded the gravel at his feet, then fiddled with his hat. At last, he looked up and said, "It was an accident." "Oh yeah! That must have been some accident to get her a spot in this weird park... So, Prof, what was this accident then?" "Please, Ace," you really don't want to know," the Doctor said. He actually sounded somewhat embarrassed, which was a first as far as Ace was concerned. She shook her head. "Nah, Prof, it's you what doesn't want me to know. So, what's the story- or..." Ace advanced her foot towards the line. The Doctor gave her a "you wouldn't dare" look. "Ok, Prof, if that's how it is..." Ace pushed her foot over the activation line. The Tegan facsimile jerked to life. It raised the rolled newspaper and said in a defensive voice, "It was all a mistake, a ghastly mistake..." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The Arachnidons might be huge hairy spider like creatures the size of sheep, Tegan mused with a shudder of distaste; but they certainly knew how to set a breakfast for human kind. Cereals, scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage, orange juice, coffee and best of all, thick cut marmalade. There was even a copy of the Telegraph, only four weeks out of date. The Doctor was off somewhere, acting as an impartial observer to some peace negotiations or something. Meanwhile, Tegan was lingering over breakfast, savouring the excellent coffee and slices of golden brown toast, thickly spread with marmalade, when she had a most unwelcome visitor. Tegan was a true child of Aus; she'd had nastier visitors to the breakfast table back home, and had no compunction in applying the tried and trusted method for dealing with such obnoxious visitors. Two minutes later, just as she was refolding the paper, the doctor stuck his head into the room. He looked to be in a bit of a panic. "Ah, Tegan, there you are," he cried on seeing her. "Haven't seen the Vespuccian Ambassadors son by any chance?" "No. Why, should I have?" "It's very important, Tegan. If I can't find him in the next ten minutes, it will mean war; millions will die; neither the Arachnidons nor the Vespuccians take prisoners. The Vespuccians have accused the Arachnidons of holding him hostage to gain some leverage in the peace negotiations; and the Vespuccian delegation are threatening that if he is not produced in the next ten minutes, it will mean a bloody and merciless war to the death. So if you have seen him..." A nasty suspicion occurred to Tegan just about then, quite spoiling her breakfast. "Eh, what does the Vespuccian Ambassador's son look like?" she asked, trying and failing to sound casual. She fussed guiltily with the paper. "Let me see," the doctor mused; "he would be in his third stage of development by this time, so I'd say he'd probably most resemble a rather large Hornet... Tegan - Whatever's the matter?" ----------------------------------------------------------------------- The end.