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“Really!” said Ana, exasperated. “If you lot throw another hoedown, please remember not to invite me. I’ve been dumped and zapped more times than is good for my health.”
“I am sorry, Ana,” the Doctor said. “But desperate times call for – Fitz! Put down that cream puff!” He gestured to an armchair. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”
Ana, however, did not sit. “What are you doing here?” she asked Alryssa.
“Suffering from a temporal rift headache, if you must know.”
“So the you I just met in the bar…”
“Is about to poof into non-existence, along with Imran and the duck.”
“Now I really need some booze,” Ana moaned.
Eloise smiled. “We have a bar of our own,” she said. “Go help yourself – just down the hall to your left – can’t miss it.”
Ana didn’t need to be told twice. A few seconds later, they could all hear: “An Egyptian god and Groucho?! Jeeze! That’s all I need!”
“Right,” said Eloise. “Let’s feed this recording into the computer and see what we get.” She tapped a few keys. “Analysing. Please wait” appeared on the screen, and the computer began to whir and click almost excitedly.
While the Doctor and the troll watched the screen expectantly, Compassion popped her large head through the door. “There’s been a development you should know about – regarding the Valeyard,” she said.
“Before we get into that,” Eloise asked, “have you stabilized? And if so, why a rabbit?”
Compassion cocked her head. “Answers: yes, I think so; and Eris says we need some pro-fun Bunnies as well as trolls for this battle. She may also call in some pro-fun fairies, too.”
Eloise smiled. “Okay,” she said. “Just wondering.”
Just then, the computer beeped, and began playing an odd, rhythmic, eerie melody.
Eloise’s ears perked up an inch and a half.
“That seems to ring a bell,” the Doctor said. “But I can’t quite place it.”
“I can!” Alryssa and Eloise said, simultaneously, each suppressing a giggle.
Soon Ana, Rufus and Orange popped their heads around the door.
“Is that what I think it is?” Ana asked.
Eloise nodded. “The Doctor Who Theme!” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “I should have known!”
“How do we know,” said Donald, in a thoughtful tone of voice, “that it’s the versions of us who stayed at This Time Round who are going to disappear? What happens if it’s us?”
Unfortunately, everybody was far too busy to pay any attention to him.
Except Fitz, who had been hit by a custard and a trifle, and was itching to retaliate against someone, regardless of their level of innocence. It was his eye, and his eye alone, that was focussed on the small blue duck.
“I said,” Donald repeated, a little louder, “how do we know–”
:::Splat!:::
Donald spluttered and coughed. “Oh, great! That’s just great!” He fixed Fitz with a beady eye. “You have no idea how hard it is to get custard cream out of feathers. Water may roll off my back, but this…”
Fitz shrugged. “At least it tastes good, right?”
“To you, maybe. I’m a duck, remember?”
Just then, Eloise returned from the music room, looking for the sixth Doctor and Thomas. “Good news!” she announced to the group. “You can put away your instruments…”
“Thanks for small mercies,” muttered Alryssa, trailing after her.
Eloise smiled to herself, and then continued: “The TARDIS has generated the appropriate sonic field. If we can find the ‘thing’, I think we can neutralize it.”
Donald grabbed the hem of her vest and tugged.
“Oh, you must be Donald. Yes, Alryssa told me your timeline had fractured, too.”
“I was just wondering about that,” he said. “How exactly do we know–”
“We’re ‘zapping’ the right set?” Eloise finished for him. She nodded thoughtfully. “Good question,” she said. “And the answer is really quite simple – well, as simple as it can be, considering we’re talking temporal rifts, here. Everyone who shares a common timeline (including all the original guests at my hoedown) share certain characteristics in their temporal signature – just as all animals that evolved from a common ancestor share certain genes. Each alternate timeline has a slightly different signature – like the slight variations between photocopies, or an echo and the original sound. The problem is, that versions of you, Alryssa, and Imran have ‘skipped a groove’ so to speak, and are in this universe/timeline. My TARDIS automatically recorded the temporal signatures of all the guests as they passed through her doors – before any of this temporal fracturing took place. Should be simple to spot the anomaly, therefore. The hope is that, once the temporal rift is ‘sewn up’, the alternate yous will pop back into their own alternate universe.”
“The ‘hope’?” Donald asked, doubtfully.
Eloise shrugged. “Well,” she said, “we’ve never tried anything like this before.”
“…And so, my lords, I call upon you to erase this abomination, and the creatures who dwell within, forthwith!”
The vote was never in doubt. Had never been in doubt.
The High Council agreed, with a 70/30 split, that Earth’s history should be rewritten to block any and all portals to Cyberspace.
Which would, incidentally, wipe Rad-wah and Adwc from existence, their creation being tied so closely to the Cyberspace portals on Earth.
The Valeyard smiled. Nearly there, nearly there…
The Doctors’ fingers started tingling. All of them.
“Is it…?” the second Doctor asked.
The seventh nodded. “It’s nearly time…”
“So… in a few minutes, all this,” the fourth gestured, indicating the Pro-Fun TARDIS, and the expanse of Rad-wah beyond its walls, “will cease to exist. Will never have been, in fact.”
“Boneyard won, then.” The sixth’s expression was downcast. “Alryssa’s problem distracted us for just long enough…”
“My dear fellow,” the third said, “would any of us really have ignored a damsel in distress?”
“I don’t think he has…” the eighth murmured. “I think there’s something darker at work here… But given that in a few minutes we’re all going to cease to exist, I have only one thing to say…”
“STOP THE MUSIC!”
The Pro-Fun TARDIS’ sonic vibrations stuttered for a moment, then came to a halt.
“Oh dear…” Imran said.
“I am really starting to hate the sound of that…” muttered Alryssa. She counted off on her finger-tips. “Ana’s gone again, we’re stuck at the beginning of Cyberspace, and the Time Lords are about to wipe it from existence. Oh, and the beginning of Cyberspace looks like New Jersey…”
“Not quite…” Imran said. “This is one of Eris’ whims; the beginning of Cyberspace always looks like the place you least expect, so to us…”
“… it looks like New Jersey.” Donald completed.
The air started to tingle.
“Oh no…” Alryssa whispered. “Not again…”
“Another time rift…” Imran murmured. “The Time Lords are about to strike…”
“OwOwOwOw…”
“Did you know TARDISes don’t get headaches?” Compassion said cheerily.
“You will in a moment…” Alryssa muttered.
Compassion blinked. “Hmm. Hadn’t seen that coming… Alryssa, take two steps to the left.”
Alryssa blinked. “What?”
“Take two steps to the left,” Compassion repeated. “This will get messy…”