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The Nanny State: A Doctor Who Story


JDL23

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I'm in the middle of working on a new story, sort of a fanfic for Doctor Who with ABDL themes (which I'm not sure anyone else has done yet). Anyway, I hope it's a decent attempt at capturing the Doctor mythos and a good story in general. Your feedback is most appreciated!

Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all related characters are property of the BBC. Please support the official release.

---

One

In the interior of a vast alien vessel, everything is silent with anticipation.

Two seconds later, the silence is broken with the sharp whistle of a boiling tea kettle.

Veronica Hyde races into a small kitchen inside the alien vessel, still in her pajamas and her hair in curlers. As she pours the hot water into her teacup, she notices the ginger-bearded man in the tweed coat sitting at the kitchen table, reading a British newspaper and dipping biscuits into a bowl of custard.

"What year is that?" Veronica asks.

The Doctor chews thoughtfully on a biscuit, still reading. "1963. Some old American codger is predicting the imminent end of Beatlemania. As usual."

Veronica smiles at the thought of thousands of girls screaming and shaking their heads in a frenzy. She never appreciated the band as much as her parents did, though she had a soft spot for "Yellow Submarine."

"Been thinking that we've had quite a terrible run lately." The Doctor folds up his paper and looks over at his companion with a tired frown. "Cybermen, dragons, Jovian warlords--all a bit much for your first trip round the cosmos, isn't it? So I thought we might find someplace that's actually quiet for a change. Sestra Prime, year 2753."

"What's that like?" Veronica adds milk and sugar, then sips her tea slowly. It's almost as good as the kind back home. Almost.

"Oh, lovely planet." The Doctor's smile seems nostalgic. "No major continents. Just chains of islands on one worldwide ocean. Uses hydroponics as agriculture. Lots of self-contained, storm-proofed cities on stilts. And as I understand it, the Sestrans and the Puerin have finally reached a peace agreement. No more guerilla wars and acts of piracy."

"That's a shame." Veronica grins behind her teacup. "I would liked to have met a real pirate."

The Doctor shrugs. "If it means that much to you, we'll go see old Blackbeard after this."

She can't help but smile, though she tries to glare at him. "You promise?"

"You bet I do."

---

An ethereal hum fills the air--the ringing of the Cloister Bell at the heart of the TARDIS. After weeks abroad the ship, Veronica has slowly gotten used to the sound. She's had to adjust to a lot of things lately. Like time travel. And the existence of aliens and monsters. And what her schoolteachers called a "stable domestic situation."

As she changes out of her pajamas and into her cold-weather clothes, Veronica is still amazed at how normal and accepting the Doctor was. He didn't bat an eye when he found her smuggling drugs for her father's gang in the East End of London, nor did he hesitate to accept her plea to come with him when her father proceeded to disown her after she denounced his latest criminal enterprise (a nasty bit of business involving an arms sale and an agent of the Cybermen). She'd heard stories of wizards and angels all her life, but on the streets of London, she never expected them to actually mean anything--not until a cold November morning when she ran into the Doctor.

Completing her all-black outfit with a white silk scarf and cap, Veronica checks herself out in the mirror and decides she likes what she sees. She can barely remember the last time she was on holiday, or at least one that didn't involve something with one of Dad's "business partners." She grins at her reflection and turns to leave the wardrobe, taking the helix staircase down to the main hold.

The Doctor leans over a console at the center of the hold, fiddling with something that glows blue. The only thing he's added to his usual ensemble is a red scarf. When Veronica reaches the end of the staircase, he looks up and grins at her. "Well, well. Someone looks ready for another adventure."

"I thought you said this was going to be a quiet trip, Doctor."

His eyes shift quickly to the left, theatrically exaggerated. "Oh, yes. Yes, I most certainly did. I'm sure it'll be very quiet..." He clears his throat and glances back down at the console. "Very..."

Slowly, the Cloister Bell lapses into silence. The TARDIS has reached its destination. Moving toward the exit, the Doctor links arms with Veronica and pushes the door open with a dramatic flourish.

Outside their vessel is an endless expanse of rain and tumultous ocean waves. Veronica nearly stumbles back, but the Doctor catches her. She takes a moment to clutch her hat against the rain and realize that they're standing on a metallic pier. She turns around, looking past the police box facade of the TARDIS and sees that the dock leads into a massive geodesic dome that rises up from the waters. Its silvery surface is buffeted constantly with rain, wind, and flashes of distant lightning.

At the other end of the pier, right where it meets the dome, a blank silver panel slides open, releasing a tiny spot of pure white light. The Doctor takes Veronica by the hand and they run toward the open door as quickly as they can. The wet metal plates under their boots make running a treacherous activity, but the Doctor seems to navigate the worst of it intuitively.

Some kind of force field keeps the rain and wind out as the Doctor and Veronica pass through, giving them both a mild electric tingle. The door dilates shut as soon as they're inside, muffling the roar of the storm.

"Hullo there!" The Doctor claps his hands together twice. Veronica turns around to see a two-meter tall woman come gliding into the pure white antechamber. Despite her human-like shape and facial features, the newcomer is distinctly alien. She wears a yellow cloak over a blue jumpsuit, which accentuates her lavender-tone skin and wispy gray hair. Something about the woman's kindly smile and regal bearing reminds Veronica of the headmistress at her old school--the sort who seemed to like children but had no actual capacity to handle them.

"We are honored by your visit, Doctor," the woman replies. She claps her hands together twice and inclines her head. "The Sestran Collective remains indebted to you for your assistance."

"Oh, that." The Doctor strokes his beard and glances sheepishly at Veronica. "I just happened to be passing through."

"You stopped a war that had lasted for centuries." The Sestran claps her hands together once as if adding a punctuation mark. "We could never have reached our accord with the Puerin without your counsel." The Sestran's cheeks flush to a shade of pink as she turns to Veronica. "But where are my manners? Welcome to Sestrapolis. I am Hanna, Governess Third Class."

"How do you do?" Veronica nearly extends her hand for a shake, then thinks better of it (having learned from the Doctor just how widely customs vary across the universe). "Veronica Hyde, Doctor's companion."

"And speaking of the Puerin," the Doctor interjects, "how are relations now between the Collective and the Clans?"

Governess Hanna doesn't say anything for a moment. Her cheeks flush pink again as she steps aside. When the Doctor exchanges a puzzled look with Veronica, the Sestran quietly adds, "Perhaps it would be best to show you around our city, Doctor. A lot has changed since your last visit."

---

The Governess's tour leads them into a multi-directional elevator that shoots through the massive expanse of Sestrapolis. Veronica stares in wonder at the numerous walkways bridging housing units and office blocks together like the intertwining tree branches. Automated worker pods fly through the air, repairing holes in walkways and moving light cargo between the internal buildings. Every surface seems to be silver, white, or gold-trimmed. She thinks of the old 1950s view of "The Future," and how everything was going to be silver spandex, ray guns, and hovercraft. Then again, the pure white backdrop also reminds her of the local Apple Store.

None of this seems to faze the Doctor. He stands between Veronica and Hanna, listening politely to the Governess's speech about peacetime industry and post-war economic stagnation. Veronica barely notices the monologue, although she does wonder how stagnant their economy would be if everything seems so shiny and expensive.

Eventually, the elevator comes to a halt, as an accented male voice announces, "Level Thirty-Eight, Block Spetaa, Subsection Karn." The glass doors open and Governess Hanna leads her guests down a small gray corridor.

"This is normally where I work," the Governess explains. She pauses at the end of the corridor and taps a button on the wall three times. The door beeps and slides open.

Veronica feels the Doctor tremble as they look at the scene within. For all intents and purposes, it appears to be a very large nursery, complete with painted sea waves on the walls, fold-out changing tables, brightly colored plastic chairs and tables, and a row of six comically large cribs. And waddling and playing amidst these furnishings are six young men and women, all pale-skinned, brown-haired, and golden-eyed. They wear white one-piece suits that look a lot like footed pajamas and a few of them sit on the floor, contentedly sucking on pacifiers.

"Do you see, Doctor?" Hanna waves at the overgrown children at play. "This is the price of our hard-won peace. Our original sin."

The Doctor stares at the scene in horror. Veronica can't remember seeing him so apalled. Neither Cybermen in the East End nor dragons in medieval France could stir him up like this.

"Doctor," she asks quietly, "what is it?"

He frowns and shoves his hands into his coat pockets. "Veronica, these children... they're the Puerin. Or perhaps it's better to say, they were the Puerin."

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I haven't seen much doctor who, but still liked it (was channeling a bit of star wars episode 2 for my visualisation of the water planet there). I'd only hoped that the doctor had taken Veronica to a nanny-state world purposefully, but this could yet prove more interesting. ;)

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Interesting permise. I'd love to see more please.

I'll try to have the second chapter up sometime later this week.

I haven't seen much doctor who, but still liked it (was channeling a bit of star wars episode 2 for my visualisation of the water planet there). I'd only hoped that the doctor had taken Veronica to a nanny-state world purposefully, but this could yet prove more interesting. ;)

You guessed right--I was using Kamino from Star Wars as an inspiration for the setting. And I wanted the "nanny-state world" to be more of a surprise and part of a mystery that the Doctor wants to solve, being an anti-authoritarian type.

Thanks for the comments, guys, and thanks for reading!

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i feel bad for quibbling, as I am enjoying the story. Nonetheless, i think you might want to revise the date of the newpaper The Doctor reads at the beginning of the story. In 1962, the Beatles were still more or less a cult favorite and not yet the phenomenon they would become starting in 1963. The term "Beatlemania" did not come into being until October (Wikipedia) or November (ukpressonline) 1963. I know it's not a big deal, but for those of us old enough to remember, or fans enough to care, it's an unnecessary distraction.

Otherwise, this is an interesting start, and I look forward to reading more.

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i feel bad for quibbling, as I am enjoying the story. Nonetheless, i think you might want to revise the date of the newpaper The Doctor reads at the beginning of the story. In 1962, the Beatles were still more or less a cult favorite and not yet the phenomenon they would become starting in 1963. The term "Beatlemania" did not come into being until October (Wikipedia) or November (ukpressonline) 1963. I know it's not a big deal, but for those of us old enough to remember, or fans enough to care, it's an unnecessary distraction.

Otherwise, this is an interesting start, and I look forward to reading more.

Thanks for pointing that out. Unfortunately on my part, I didn't research that part of the Beatles' history as closely as I should've. It should be fixed to a more appropriate date now.

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Two

"When I last came here, the Sestrans and the Puerin had been at war for almost five hundred years." The Doctor sits on a bright red plastic chair, leaning forward with a glum expression. "The Sestrans were always wealthier, more refined. The Puerin were rugged seafarers. For five hundred years, it was a war of Puerin piracy and Sestran bombings."

"It was the Doctor who tried to convince us to band our forces together," Governess Hanna adds. She bounces a male Puerin on her knee, who gurgles happily. "He saw that the sea levels were rising dangerously and knew it was only a matter of time before the lower-altitude Puerin settlements would be wiped out. But the Premier and his Cabinet didn't want to wait for that to happen. They advocated more... drastic measures."

The Doctor looks at Veronica, then over at Hanna. "But how could the Puerin have been reduced to this?"

Hanna lowers her head. "The kybertine virus. Our best scientists created a biochemical weapon that would attack Puerin's brains. Reduce them to a more peaceful, more amenable state of consciousness. You can imagine our shock when boatloads of mindless, terrified grown infants suddenly arrived at our cities weeks later."

The overgrown child on her lap gurgles in response. Hanna tries her best to smile and pats him on the back.

"All these Puerin," the Doctor muses. He scratches his beard and glances at the other "children" asleep in their cribs. "Taking them all in must've been terrible strain on your resources."

"Our economy has suffered, yes." Hanna turns to Veronica. "But you must understand. We couldn't have it on our consciences to let them fend for themselves in the wild sea. And besides, we have tried to integrate them into our society. You remember, Doctor, how quickly the Puerin adapted to whatever technology they stole from us? Even in this regressed state, they still intuitively understand how to operate our maintenance drones and power generators. We just had to retool the controls to be more... child-friendly. Big buttons and bright colors, that sort of thing."

Veronica leans over to get a look at one of the Puerin girls asleep in her crib. She seems so peaceful, sucking on her pacifier and curled up under a blanket. It's hard to imagine these young ones ever being pirates or manual laborers.

"I take it the regression has become hereditary?" the Doctor asks. He takes out his sonic screwdriver and stares meaningfully at it.

Hanna nods. Then, as she takes notice of the Puerin on her lap and how his eyes are drooping shut, she picks him up and carries him over to the last empty crib. She pulls a blanket over him and pushes a button on the wall. Veronica can barely hear something like a synthetic lullaby being played in the air over his crib. The melody is alien, but the tinkling notes are as familiar to her as any nursery rhyme.

Looking back, Veronica sees that the Doctor is lost in thought, contemplating the device in his hands. She remembers thinking of it as a magic wand, but he explained it was nothing of the sort. More like a Swiss Army knife. It had a variety of useful functions, but it couldn't be used as a weapon and it couldn't solve the biggest problems--like war, poverty, and tyranny. Then, as he did now, the Doctor seemed so very old when he spoke and looked at the screwdriver in his hand. It was easy to believe in such moments that he'd been doing this sort of thing for centuries.

"Doctor, Miss Hyde," says Hanna, breaking the awkward silence in the nursery, "perhaps you'd care to join me for some refreshments? The children need their rest and we have to restock this facility."

Veronica waits for the Doctor to get up and pocket his screwdriver. They follow Hanna out the door, only to quickly step aside as another Sestran pushes a cart down the corridor. He wears a blue jumpsuit like Hanna, but with a gray cloak, and nods respectfully at the Doctor on his way into the nursery. Veronica notices that the top of the cart is loaded with baby bottles, clean pacifiers, folded-up onesies, and adult-size diapers.

When she turns around, Hanna is staring at her sympathetically. "Rather a lot to take in, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." Veronica blushes. "But I've come to expect that in traveling with the Doctor."

The Doctor slowly perks up at the sound of her voice. He turns to Veronica with a tiny smile and a wink, as if to say, "Thanks for the pick-me-up." Then he turns to Hanna, offers her his arm like a gentleman, and says out loud, "Well. Shall we go then?"

---

On Level Sixteen, the Governess takes her two guests into a large dining area. To Veronica, the silvery chairs and light brown walls remind her of a cafe in Soho she and her friends used to frequent on weeknights. At this time of the day--hard to tell inside the city, but Hanna says it's just after midday--the dining area is sparsely populated. Only a handful of Sestrans in jumpsuits and cloaks sit around, drinking from white mugs and eating off silver trays. A small fleet of floating trays with tiny robotic arms waits on them, delivering fresh meals and cleaning up vacated tables with silent precision.

The Doctor finds them a table in the center of the room and waves over one of the floating trays. It jabbers at him in a fast-paced language that Veronica doesn't begin to comprehend, but the Doctor just says, "The special sounds fine. We'll have three of those, a glass of tea, a bakya juice for the Governess, and a gerry ale for the lady."

Veronica frowns at him as the auto-tray floats off to the kitchen. "Gerry ale?"

"Don't worry, you'll like it." He grins at her and pokes her in the shoulder. "Totally compatible with human biochemistry. Sweeter and less filling than your usual English beer."

"So basically what I'd be drinking at a nightclub."

"Precisely!" The Doctor's grin drops to a sad smile as he turns to Hanna. "Now, this Premier of yours. He the same chap I met before?"

The Governess shakes her head. "That was Premier Arstani. He resigned after the debacle with the kybertine virus. We had another election and Bardein has been the Premier ever since."

"What you might not know, Veronica," the Doctor adds, leaning toward her conspiratorially, "is that the Sestrans practice direct democracy. Every Sestran over the age of thirty is automatically a Member of Parliament. All decisions conducted by wireless voting. Remarkable, isn't it?"

"It isn't all that remarkable," Hanna comments. She looks at Veronica. "Are people on your world that interested in their politics?"

"Depends on who you ask, I suppose." Veronica shrugs. "I never cared much myself. Always thought Parliament was a bunch of old men in suits making a lot of noise while civil servants did all the real work."

"It's amazing how universal that style of government is," the Doctor remarks with a snide chuckle.

"Here," Hanna explains, "being political is just one more social obligation. I can't tell you how many times I've been in the middle of changing a diaper or feeding a Puerin when I've gotten a prompt to vote yea or nay on some legislation about city infrastructure."

Veronica stifles a laugh at the mental image of an overworked Governess typing in her vote while she's bottlefeeding an adult Puerin. Her laughter stops when the auto-tray arrives with their meals. On each plate is a mass of purple-veined leaves under a yellow sauce that looks surprisingly meaty. The unappealing blend of colors makes Veronica want to gag, but to her shock, both the Governess and the Doctor dig into their food with gusto.

She decides to try her gerry ale. At least the orange coloring doesn't throw her off, and after the first sip, she knows it's as good as the Doctor promised.

"I don't suppose I could get a chance to meet Premier Bardein?" the Doctor asks. He wipes some of the sauce off his chin with a cloth napkin.

Hanna smiles at him in between bites of her exotic-looking salad. "As Governess for Subsection Karn, I'd be happy to arrange it. And I'm sure the Premier will be glad to have your expertise on our current troubles."

The Doctor laughs. "You'd be surprised how often world leaders dread me showing up out of the blue. They call me the Oncoming Storm for good reason."

Meanwhile, Veronica finishes swallowing as much of her food as she can. It tastes a bit like sushi and romaine-leaf salad, but blander. Washing it down with the last of her gerry ale makes the whole meal tolerable. But soon that creates a slight pressure on her bladder and her legs begin to get jittery.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says quietly, "but I don't suppose you have a restroom nearby?"

Hanna frowns. "Restroom? Do you need sleep, Miss Hyde?"

"She means a toilet, Governess," the Doctor clarifies. His matter-of-fact tone causes Veronica to blush.

"Oh, but of course!" Hanna pushes her plate aside and rises from the table. She magnanimously offers Veronica her hand. "This way, please."

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Three

The Doctor watches Governess Hanna take Veronica by the hand and lead her out of the dining room. He smiles at them until they leave, then looks around to see if he's being watched. By now, the other Sestrans have gone back to work, leaving him alone with the various auto-trays.

Slowly, he gets up from the table and adjusts the scarf around his neck. He always liked this scarf; he'd worn it at the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II and had recently sported it at Adele's latest concert. Lots of good memories associated with it. He'll need those bright memories to cheer him up in a place like this.

He felt it the moment Hanna started giving her tour. A sort of psychic imbalance in the air--and not just what had happened to the Puerin. Something else is rotten in the heart of Sestrapolis. He's quite sure of it.

Still, appearances must be kept up. As the Doctor leaves his table and exits the room, he whistles the opening notes to "Rolling in the Deep." This seems to placate the auto-trays, which go back to their cleanup duties on the other side of the room.

The door dilates open and the Doctor steps through. However, standing on the other side is a small delegation of Sestran men in blue cloaks and black suits. The tallest and oldest stands in front, brushing back his white hair in a sign of humility.

"It is a great honor to meet you at last, Doctor." The eldest Sestran offers a lavender-toned hand. "Premier Bardein, leader of the Collective, at your service."

The Doctor shakes his hand and smiles politely. "Premier Bardein, it's my pleasure to be here. I'm glad to see that things have settled down in the Collective since last time."

"Indeed." The Premier frowns as if he's tasted something bitter. "If you have the time, however, I would very much like for you to sit in our Cabinet meeting tomorrow. There are a number of pressing issues that I'm sure your wisdom could help solve for us." He quickly smiles and adds, "Once again."

"I'm afraid my doctorate doesn't apply to all fields, Premier." The Doctor pauses, thinks it over, then shrugs and adds, "Well, most of them, anyway. I promise to do what I can."

Behind the Premier, the other somber-looking Sestrans nod and murmur agreeably. Premier Bardein smiles and clasps his hands together. "Excellent, Doctor. Most gratifying to hear. And as a token of my personal respect, please allow me to show you to your living quarters."

"Hang on." The Doctor leans past the entourage and looks down the corridor behind them. "My, uh, companion is here with me. She's with Governess Hanna at the moment."

The Premier blinks. "Oh, you have a companion? And here we thought you traveled alone."

"I've got someone more often than not."

"I see." The Premier waves his hand in what most Sestrans consider a reassuring gesture. "My staff can contact Governess Hanna and let her know where you're staying. I'm sure it won't be any trouble."

"Good to hear." The Doctor takes a step forward, then realizes that the entourage hasn't moved yet. He smiles through his sudden embarrassment and waves at the Premier. "Apologies, sir. It's your city. You lead the way."

---

As Premier Bardein rambles on about progress and the "Puerin-Sestran partnership," the Doctor lets his eyes wander freely over the clean white corridors and passing Sestran workers. Every so often he sees a Sestran Governor or Governess leading a troupe of white-clad Puerin into a nursery or managing an operations team. They play with the controls like it's a game but they're clearly operating the drones in the air around them. It's amazing to watch them in action, but it does little to quell the unease in the Doctor's mind.

An hour later, Bardein has led his group into an apartment complex. He approaches a door marked for eminent visitors and offers the Doctor a keycard. "The key also features twenty-seven ducars' worth of credit. Redeemable for any restaurant or theater of your choice."

"Much obliged," the Doctor replies, but he's soon interrupted by a terrible scream at the other end of the hallway.

Everyone turns around to see a Puerin girl running toward them, waving her arms madly. The Premier turns and nods at two of his fellow Sestrans, who step forward and restrain the errant child by the arms. One of them takes her by both arms while the other reaches around and spanks her once. The blow stops the girl's crying, although tears are still streaming down her face.

"Oh dear, oh dear." Premier Bardein looks the troublemaker over with mild disapproval. "As you can see, Doctor, sometimes the kybertine virus has a terrible side effect on their minds. Makes them agitated without reason. We try to curb it with a good diet and exercise, but sometimes discipline is the only solution." He turns to the two Sestrans holding her. "Guardsman, what's the child's name?"

The guard glances at something on the back of the Puerin's jumpsuit. "Clarent-33. Level Twenty-Two, Block Nyaj, Subsection Hul."

"Do you mind if I have a look at her?" The Doctor reaches for his sonic screwdriver, thinking he can use its biometric features to get a good look inside the girl's psyche. But the Premier reaches out and holds him by the arm.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but I think it might be best if we left this up to our own specialists." Premier Bardein turns and quickly waves the two guards away, who drag the silently crying girl away. Then he looks back at the Doctor, who remains as puzzled as before. "I realize how harsh we might seem, but we've been on edge ever since the end of the war. Being the Puerin's caretakers has strained the Collective's morale as well as our resources."

Nodding, the Doctor puts his screwdriver away. He takes out his keycard and slides it through the lock on his door. "Well, Premier. I'll be more than glad to discuss such matters with you tomorrow. Please make sure my companion arrives with Governess Hanna as soon as possible."

The Premier nods respectfully. "You have my word, Doctor. Good day."

When the door slides shut, the Doctor finally takes out his screwdriver and points it at the lock. With a quiet whirr, it takes only a few seconds to reprogram the door's security code. No keycard will open it now--only the Doctor's screwdriver. He hasn't survived nine centuries of adventures and horrors by being a naive houseguest.

And speaking of houseguests, the Doctor wonders, what's become of the lovely Veronica...?

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I was wondering which doctor you're writing about? and is Veronica Veronica Mars from the CW TV show or is she a well known companion?

Actually, they're both original characters. The Doctor here is just another incarnation (possibly the Twelfth, whom I described as having a beard and being ginger). Veronica is just based on characterizations of previous companions, with her own backstory.

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"...the Doctor wonders, what's become of the lovely Veronica...?"

oh yes, and so do I!

And, I wonder what might have befallen our good doctor had he not reprogrammed the lock! Or what might still...

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Four

Veronica washes her hands in the sink, feeling slightly comforted by the restroom's aqua green color scheme. She doesn't quite understand why aliens that otherwise look so human have such strange designs, like why their toilets and sinks are triangular instead of round, or what purpose three faucets on the same sink serve. Sure, the second one turned out to be a soup dispenser, but she didn't dare touch the third one with the red blinking light on top.

After wiping her hand on a paper towel, Veronica stands in front of the door and waits for it to slide open. She finds Governess Hanna standing outside, greeting her with a kind smile and an outstretched hand. Dubiously, Veronica takes her hand. She feels like a schoolgirl being led back to class, but she supposes that the Governess is just being polite.

"I hope you'll enjoy your stay here, Miss Hyde," the Governess says as they go back up the corridor. "Has the Doctor said how long you'll be with us?"

"He never does, actually." Veronica shrugs. "Come to think of it, we really don't stay much longer when things quiet down."

Hanna frowns. "I'm sorry. 'Quiet down'?"

Her skeptical tone stops Veronica in her tracks. She looks at the Governess and puts her hand up in reassurance. "Oh, no, we're not trying to start trouble! I swearI We just, um, tend to... find it ourselves..."

She can't say another word. It sounds too ridiculous once she's said it out loud. Veronica had never really considered before how often the Doctor or the TARDIS seemed drawn to being in harm's way. Granted, she was used to it herself, having to do her father's work with the drug trade, but not every single day had been spent running from the police or fighting off monsters or mayhem like that. Some days all she'd done was have a nice cup of tea and a muffin while she watched TV. There seemed to be less of those moments while traveling with the Doctor.

The Governess, however, seems to understand. She puts a sympathetic hand on Veronica's arm. "It's all right, Miss. You don't need to explain yourself to me. I have no right to pry."

Veronica smiles back. "Thank you, Hanna."

"Governess, please."

"Well, you can call me Veronica, if you like."

Hanna blushes. "Sorry, Miss. We Sestrans respect titles more than names. Holdover from the war, you see." After a moment, she recomposes her face and straightens out her cloak. "Shall we go back, then?"

Veronica is about to say yes when she hears a distant wail from the other end of the corridor. She and Hanna both turn toward the sound.

"What was that?" Veronica asks.

"A discipline session." Hanna steps over and peers down the hall. "You see, sometimes our Puerin can be a little... hard to manage. When they need a little reconditioning, we send them to a discipline chamber." When she turns back to Veronica, her smile is more polite than genuine. "It's not very pleasant for either party, I'm afraid."

Veronica nods, but she isn't satisfied. That cry hurt her deeply. She remembers hearing sounds of arguing and domestic abuse from her old neighborhood. Sounds of crying children and mothers beaten by savage fathers. She closes her eyes, remembering her own mother's tear-stricken face and how she disappeared when Veronica was just fourteen.

"Please, Governess," she says softly, forcing herself to look down the hall, "I must see for myself. Both the good and the bad."

Hanna nods. "As you wish, Miss Hyde."

---

Down the corridor and through a door on the right, Hanna leads Veronica down a short flight of stairs. It doesn't escape the young woman's notice that suddenly the lighting is a lot dimmer and everything is set in tones of gray and red instead of neutral white.

Ahead lies a door marked with Sestran letters. Hanna waves a keycard over the lock and waits for the door to open. She steps aside and lets Veronica enter first.

The room beyond is doused in an eerie blue light. In the middle is a tilted chair, into which a Puerin girl is strapped. Some kind of mechanical vise is gripping her head to the chair, while smaller metal arms hold her eyelids open like something out of A Clockwork Orange. The Puerin girl's face is taut with mortal dread as she stares helplessly at something on the ceiling.

"I will ask you once more, Clarent-33," says a synthesized male voice. "Where is the Golden Vault hidden?"

Veronica looks up and sees a floating metal ball with a single red eye on a telescoping arm. As it swings toward her, the eyestalk makes her think of the recordings the Doctor showed her of his mortal enemies, the Daleks.

The metal ball buzzes once, then says, "Minister, I must report a security breach. This woman is not authorized to be here."

Just then, the door behind Hanna opens and in storms a tall Sestran man in black jumpsuit and an off-white cloak. He sneers at Veronica, then turns onto Hanna with murderous contempt. "Governess, you will explain this! Why did you bring this girl here?"

"My apologies, Minister!" Hanna smooths back her hair and bows frantically. "She asked me to bring her here! I... I didn't realize it wasn't permitted!"

The Minister turns to Veronica again, this time with a more guarded expression. He squints at her, then waves at the captive Puerin in the chair. "What you have seen, Miss, is nothing of concern. Just a routine interrogation. You would do well to avoid discussing it outside this room."

"Is that so?" Veronica feels something hot and red boiling up inside of her. She hasn't felt this mad since the day she called out her father for selling guns to Cybermen. "And you expect me to keep quiet about cold-blooded torture? You'll have to kill me if you think I won't be telling the Doctor about this!"

"The Doctor's here?" the Minister hisses. He glances at Hanna, who nods mutely and looks as terrified as the girl strapped to the chair.

When he turns back to Veronica, he's grinning and not in a good way.

"Killing you isn't the only option available," he says quietly. "You just need to be kept quiet, Miss. Like a good little girl."

Veronica edges back, trying to shield the Puerin girl. But the Minister doesn't attack her. Instead, he reaches into a pocket on his jumpsuit and takes out a pair of breath masks. He hands one to Hanna, who puts it on reluctantly, and then dons his own mask.

"Technician," the Minister says, his voice muffled, "activate the Kybertine Protocol. Second degree, please."

"Right you are, sir," the metal ball in the air buzzes back. Then Veronica smells something bitter and rotting in the air around her. She coughs and lifts her hand to her nose, but the metal ball's eyestalk extends itself right in front of her face. She stares into its red eyepiece right as it flashes white--

And then, black.

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Five

An insistent beep rouses the Doctor from his sleep--well, his light nap, really. He sits upright in his chair and looks over at the time display on the wall. By Sestran standards, it's the start of Third Watch; by Earth reckoning (Greenwich Time), it would be just after eight in the morning.

Getting up and brushing some biscuit crumbs off his trousers, the Doctor walks over to the display and switches the alarm off. He stretches and looks around the clean steel-gray apartment. Still no sign of Veronica, which worries him. And he's due to sit in on a Cabinet meeting at Fifth Watch, which concerns him less (probably just some boring ceremony with a lot of flowery speeches and no progress).

Rubbing his bearded chin, the Doctor walks over to his door and reaches into his pocket. He takes out his sonic screwdriver and scans the lock. Satisfied that no one broke in while he was asleep, he goes over to a comm screen sitting upright on a writing desk by his chair. With a brush of his fingertip, he brings the screen to life and dials the call-code for Governess Hanna.

No response. The Doctor frowns, then tries City Security.

"How can we help, sir?" says a silhouetted, low-throated Sestran man two seconds later.

"This is the Doctor speaking. My companion went missing last night. Is there any way you can find her?"

"You'll have to give us her description, Doctor. And her last known location."

Not liking the sound of that, the Doctor leans toward the screen and says, "Do you see me, Officer? Good. Now darken and lengthen the hair, take away the beard, and picture me in something more flattering. That's my companion, Miss Veronica Hyde." When the officer's image doesn't change right away, he lets out a sigh and forces himself to add, "Her last known location was in the company of one Governess Hanna."

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so?" The security officer's silhouette disappears for a moment, then returns just as quickly. "Governess Hanna has been reassigned. Order came through from the Ministry of Health and Science early this morning, sir."

"Reassigned?" The Doctor's frown deepens. Every girl he'd met (or brought) on this planet seemed to be disappearing fast. "Where to?"

"Level Ninety-One, Block Zyt, Subsection Ykev. But even as a VIP, you'll need authorization for--"

But the Doctor has no time for that. He taps his finger against the screen, cutting off the transmission. Then it's out the door with his sonic screwdriver in hand and his trusty scarf flapping around his neck.

Don't you worry, Veronica, the Doctor promises in his heart, I'm coming for ya...

---

A trio of floating white drones scurry out of his way as the Doctor races toward the closing doors of an elevator. He snaps his screwdriver toward the control panel, causing the doors to freeze in place. He squeezes inside and waits for the doors to shut and the elevator to descend. And just his luck, too--it's already set to go to Level Ninety-Nine.

Catching his breath, the Doctor turns around and takes notice of the startled Sestrans and Puerin standing behind him. One Sestran is dressed in an orange jumpsuit with no cloak, the other is a Governess, and behind her stand two rather diminutive Puerin, both waddling and sucking their thumbs in awe of this strange person.

"Morning!" the Doctor says brightly. He bends low and smiles at the two Puerin. "Being good tots, are we?"

"Mm," says one of the Puerin, mumbling around her thumb. The Governess forces a smile and pats her on the head.

"Er, pardon me, but..." The man in the orange jumpsuit clears his throat. "Aren't you the Doctor?"

Quickly standing up, the Doctor straightens his scarf and jacket out. "Yes, I am. Anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you've got something to stop those bloody bachals in the lower sector," the Sestran mutters back. The Governess, meanwhile, clasps her hands over the ears of her two Puerin and shoots him a stern look.

The Doctor understands her concern. He remembers the bachals: twice the size of a typical Puerin seaship and three times as long. Strong and black-scaled serpents of the deep, a nightmare to both races. Sestran cities were supposed to be well-protected against their intrusion, but maybe not...

"Sorry, I don't think there's enough room in the TARDIS," he tells the Sestran. The man shrugs and goes back to staring sullenly out the window.

Finally, the elevator stops and the doors slide open. The Doctor races ahead, prompting a startled gasp from the Governess and giggles from her wards. He slips by another crowd of Sestran workers, all carrying toolkits and dressed in orange like the other fellow. They wave and smile as the Doctor goes dashing by; clearly some of them are old enough to remember his last visit.

At the end of the first corridor is a neon green map on the wall. Stopping to consult it, the Doctor taps his finger against the glowing pink dot that marks his position, then traces his finger around the city blocks. Finding Block Zyt, Subsection Ykev isn't too difficult, although it's out of the way. The Doctor quickly memorizes the route--two left turns and one right, then straight on--and dashes off once more.

---

After five minutes of running like a madman, the Doctor pulls up short as he comes toward Subsection Ykev. It's at the end of a gray corridor, a single white door with two serious-looking Sestrans standing guard outside. And much to his surprise, the uniforms they're wearing aren't Security mauve. They're dark green, the color of the Collective Defense Forces.

Such a situation requires some tact. The Doctor smooths out his coat and takes out a sheet of psychic paper from his pocket. From there, it's just a matter of smiling pleasantly and walking confidently toward the door.

The guard on the right lifts his plasma rifle across his chest as the Doctor approaches. A thick white helmet with a dark visor muffles his voice. "Sorry, sir. This area is restricted."

"Oh, but I've got permission." The Doctor says "permission" like it's a magic incantation. He flashes the paper up for both guards to see. "A document of transit, signed and sealed by the Premier himself."

Of course it's a blank sheet of paper. But Gallifreyan technology goes a long way in this corner of the universe. His confidence is enough to convince the two guards that, why, yes, it certainly looks like an official document granting him access. They nod to each other and the man on the left pushes a button to open the door.

"Thank you, gents," he says with a grin and steps inside.

The door closes and the lights brighten, giving him a clear view of the chamber. It looks just like the nursery he saw, only smaller. There's a single crib on the other side of the room and enough plastic furniture for two Puerin-sized people. The Doctor recognizes Governess Hanna from behind, who at the moment is bending over someone lying in the crib.

At the sound of the door closing, the Governess turns around. She looks tired, even more so than when they last spoke. Her hair is a mess and she's practically hobbles over to the Doctor, who catches her in his arms.

"I was afraid you'd never find us," she whispers plaintively.

"I'm here now, Governess. What happened?"

Hanna lifts her head, blinking slowly. "We saw something we shouldn't have. It wasn't permitted. I tried to stop her, but--"

"Stop her?" The Doctor looks past her shoulder at the crib. It takes him a moment to realize that the person lying in it is a bit larger than most of the Puerin he's seen so far; the Sestrans stand about a meter taller than them on average.

He walks past Hanna and looks down inside the crib. It takes him a moment to wrap his head around the sight of a young Englishwoman sucking on a pacifier, wearing a white onesie with the noticeable bulge of a diaper around her waist. The girl stares back with curious eyes that don't seem to recognize him.

"Oh, Veronica." The Doctor leans onto the crib railing, suddenly feeling every one of his nine hundred years. "I've always said you were a precocious child, but this is pushing it..."

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"And a fine mess you've gotten us into this time, Ollie!"

Excellent chapter, great suspense. How have they done this to her and will it be possible to rescue her and return her to her former self? What about the Governess; what will happen to her? I just hope it takes some time to resolve itself. I'm liking this story a lot.

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Slight delay for now as I'm buckling down to keep up writing this story, but I should at least have the next chapter up by Tuesday. Stay tuned!

Might need some more "inspiration" though... :whistling:

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I'm still keen, the writing's great, and it's a decent story in its own right. Truthfully though mental regression skips over what interests me, so I'm currently hoping for a possibility which was earlier implied. ;)

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