Time Lady 2

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Time Lady 2
Book One
Book Two
The Whitechapel Murders
Book Three
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2,900 words approx...
warning, this chapter contains a lot of adult content and is not for anyone under 18...
 

Doria Prime was the very model of efficiency.  The buildings were all melded together by ramps and walkways and corridors making it one massive hive of activity.  On every level the society was structured and ordered.  There was someone programmed for every task.  They mindlessly worked and slept and reproduced and ate in their designated communal areas.  Only in the schools did the mindful youth engage in futile attempts to create and destroy.  Their emotions were caged however, behind locked doors they were taught essential skills, until they were old enough to know the truth, that through accepting order and structure they would be free of all responsibility.  Many begged to have their minds erased and become blank automatons because they were taught it was the pinnacle of being.  They imagined that the outside world was one of infinite reward and majesty.  By the time they learned the truth they were implanted with the mind eraser chip and then it was too late.  The males and females would be put to work and fresh genetic material was made available to the reproduction schedules.  In the centre of the largest buildings lay the single controlling intelligence of the Dorian people, the simple computer system that ran not only a species but an empire of worlds and commanded a vast fleet of ships and soldiers.

 

 

 

Erin was having the time of her life.  The club was just the right sort of atmosphere, a bit bawdry and not too posh at all.  Guests were expected to shout out a witty comment or two at the various acts.  So far she’d seen a rather poor magic act, a juggler, a singer, a rather good comedian and now they were currently setting up for something else.  Stage hands poured sand on the stage and cardboard palm trees were also added to the décor.  Large stone triangles were off-set to one side and one of the waiters started walking around in a red fez hat.  She didn’t mind though, he was cute and she fancied another G and T.  Whatever a G and T was it was good, in fact Erin quite felt like making a move on the waiter, but the Doctor had mysteriously vanished and she had to keep her seat, in case someone came along and tried to take it.

 

The large compare shuffled back on stage and grabbed the mike in his bunch of bananas hand.  “And now, for one night only, Wilson, Keppel and Doctor!”

 

Erin nearly chocked on a slice of cake in shock as the Doctor and two weird looking guys in strange costumes emerged on stage and started to do a comedy dance routine.

 

A drunken patron slouched onto the Doctor’s chair next to Erin and slurred all over her neck and chest.  “Bloody good dancers these, saw them in Liverpool last Easter, I don’t half fancy the ones in the middle.”

 

“I don’t think she’ll thank you for that.”  Erin said; trying not to breathe in the brewery air coming out of the drunk’s saliva speckled mouth.

 

“Have a drink, my dear, and sit on my knee.”  The drunk put his hand on the thin blonde girl’s thigh.

 

Erin could contain her repulsion no longer, she may have not been trained in any of those wavy arm fighting styles, but she’d been in a couple of drunken brawls in her time, much to the shame of her late mother, who often remarked that she wanted a dutiful daughter, not an ale-soaked harlot.  Erin liked to think of herself as a woman who could hold her ale and only act like a harlot with her boyfriend, if she ever found one.  Then again she wasn’t really looking at the moment.  Plus her lifestyle was a little too nomadic to allow her time to meet guys and make a few mistakes with them.

 

 

 

Squad leader 538-9497 waited patiently for the target to emerge from the building.  Not a single thought crossed her blank-slate mind.  All individuality had been long since removed from her brain thanks to the implant chip she’d begged to have installed.  Once she’d been a wild teenager, fuelled by hormones and ruled by emotions, now that girl was dead and the living corpse that she became cared not for anything other than the completion of her mission.

 

 

 

After the act was over the Doctor found Erin in a somewhat merry state.  “I take it you had a great time?”

 

Eric laughed loudly.  “Brilliant dance, I had no idea you could make such a fool of yourself in public.”

 

“Well they’re old friends of mine and poor Betty had a spot of food poisoning, I think it was the salmon mousse.  Poor thing.  Anyway I knew the moves and I thought it worked out rather well.”  The Doctor sipped on her coffee house bought cuppa.  “I made a small detour after I finished.  I went for a swim.”

 

“Did you try to beat your record again?”  Erin asked.

 

“Yes, I shaved a few minutes off my personal best.”

 

“Why swim all the way from one country to another?  Couldn’t you just take the tunnel?  I liked the tunnel.  It was fast and there were free drinks and I bought that cuddly bear, Mr. Hugs.”

 

Erin, swimming the channel is a test of endurance and determination.”

 

“You only took ten minutes, and you hadn’t even broken into a sweat.”

 

“I like to keep in shape.  I have abs that could stop a bullet.”

 

“I’ll get a gun.”

 

“It’s a figure of speech.”

 

“I know.  You really need to get a new boyfriend.  You’re so tense and on edge all the time.  I’ve only been with three guys in my life, so I’m not an expert, but you were much more relaxed after you accidentally killed your husband.”

 

“I am not stressed.”  The Doctor muttered.  “I am not upset, I am calm, I am a pool, no waves, no ripples, I am not about to cry.”

 

“Whatever.”  Erin replied.

 

The Doctor started to cry and quickly she rubbed at her eyes with the cuffs of her jacket while Erin wasn’t looking.  “I said I’m not crying.”

 

“Good, that’s really goo…come on, you need a hug.”  Erin hugged the Doctor while she kept crying.  “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault.  I had a kebab earlier; you know how insensitive it makes me.”

 

 

 

Trooper 498-3209 emerged from the bodily waste extraction facility.  He moved through the crowd silently and carefully.  He aimed his gun at the target and awaited the order to either take the shot or not.

 

Missy LaRouge saw the naked man and let out a gasp of appreciation.  “Honey, I want to cover you in honey and lick you clean.”  She may have been 84 but she was still a poor French prostitute at heart.

 

Squad leader 538-9497 entered the building and many heads turned to her.  “You are all captives; resist and you will be killed.  Your minds will be erased of all thought, emotion and feeling, your bodies will serve as the directive sees fit.”  Squad leader 538-9497 moved over to the target.

 

 

 

Erin saw male nudity and her mind froze, just as another naked male grabbed her from behind (one of her fantasies) and chloroformed her into unconsciousness!

 

The Doctor rushed at Erin’s attacker and threw him across the room easily.  She wasn’t given to bursts of strength like this, but well she did like to work out and she could bench-press an elephant if necessary, while not ruining her school-girl figure one bit.  She scooped up Erin’s prone form and hefted her up onto one shoulder.  “Rassilon, you’ve put on weight.  No more chocolate oranges for you anymore.”  She ran through the chaos of the crowds.  She saw the fire door and she ran through it, using Erin as part battering ram and part cushion as she collided with a red post box on the far side of the pavement outside.  She looked about and saw the TARDIS in the distance.  Three burly figures stood in front of the door.  There was only one thing to do.  She stood in the middle of the road and removed the TARDIS summoning device from her handbag with her free hand and she relaxed as it disappeared and then appeared around herself and Erin.  She put Erin down on the sofa in the control room.  “Dislocated shoulder, I’m sorry about this Erin.”

 

 

 

The squad aimed their weapons at their heads and fired.

 

The crowd screamed as the throng of naked men and women were all reduced to ash.

 

 

 

Erin screamed as a ginormous pain crashed over her like a tidal wave of hammers.

 

“I’m sorry.”  The Doctor said quickly.  “I had to put the bone back into the joint.”

 

“I saw naked people.”  Erin said though the pain.  “What was going on?”

 

“A suicide squad.”  The Doctor replied.  “Dead people don’t need anything.”

 

“They had guns.”

 

“Single use only I would imagine.”  The Doctor sat on the floor by Erin’s side.  “I wonder who they were?”

 

Erin shrugged.  “They worked out a lot.  I bet none of them had any body fat at all.”

 

“Unlike you.”  The Doctor joked.

 

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

 

“No, I’m saying you have a choice in your daily food intake.  I imagine they’re programmed only to eat the exact amount they need and no more.  Is a slave a slave if they have no mind left to realise that they’re a slave?”

 

“Those sorts of puzzles always give me a headache.”  Erin replied.

 

“They’re victims of some terrible something.”

 

“Well that’s nice and vague.”

 

“Yes, annoyingly so.  It’s a crude sort of technology, the Daleks tried something like it once, but they relied on maintaining a basic level of consciousness, slaves that can learn are better than slaves that can’t after all.  There was nothing in their eyes at all, they were no longer people but machines made of skin and bone and muscle.  I’ve met robots with a lot more personality.  Some of my best friends were robots; we had lots of fun together too.  I could never be friends with them though.”

 

“Who would create an army of physically perfect people, remove their minds and turn them into things that are just as disposable as those guns they carried?”

 

“That’s not the important question right now.  I need to know how and why they came after us.”

 

“After you, you mean.  As great and fabulous as I am, I’m not exactly the universe’s most amazing woman ever, not yet anyway.  Obviously it’s someone who knows you and has a bit of a grudge against you.  We just need to make a list.”

 

“There isn’t a piece of paper long enough.”  The Doctor frowned.  “I’ll have to use my mind.”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Well I promise not to sprain something.  I’m not a brain dead bimbo.  Now my last self on the other hand, no, I promised myself I wouldn’t be bitchy towards any of my earlier selves.  I want to be the nice one, the one that bunch of dysfunctional weirdoes look up to.”

 

“Whatever.  So who’s after you, any by default, me?”

 

The Doctor began to think, then she went and made herself a cup of coffee.

 

 

 

They were an army without parallel, because by making the soldiers of no more value than the objects they carried they were without fear or hesitation.  They were a relentless wave of death, countless trillions upon trillions swarmed throughout their sector of the galaxy and their numbers grew second by second.  A billion pregnant female produced twins or triplets every second, they lived like locusts and died like locusts too, exhausting food supplies and dying out.  The fleet moved ever outwards to consume more and more planets to feed their numbers.  In amongst these was one adult with a mind of her own, she was the Queen of the Dorians, she was the latest in a long line of men and women who stretched right back to the beginning of the Dorian Empire.  Queen Sophie Beech, the flame-haired beauty, was waited on hand and foot by her mindless slaves.  She enjoyed them all; she selected only the most beautiful women as her maids and the most virile men as her lovers.  Currently she was letting one of the males implant her with her eventual successor.  It would be her duty to teach her child the truth about the empire, that she ruled absolutely and that all others were expendable pawns, to live and die at her command.  She was fed succulent grapes by a maid and rewarded her dutifulness by slashing her throat.  She watched the mindless fool collapse and die.  She loved seeing the life go out of their eyes.  She had killed several thousand so far, she couldn’t get enough of the ecstasy that came with the taking of a life.  Some she impaled, others she hanged, she stabbed and poisoned and beheaded and gutted and even commanded a hundred men to kill themselves because one had tripped over her foot and spilled the wine.  She had tripped the oaf up herself of course.  She liked to find reasons for the deaths, otherwise where was the fun?  She was Doria herself after all, she liked a good cull to cheer herself up with and she also liked to watch them breed.  She took life, so why not give life too?  She had a whole plaza of women lie waiting hours of the arrival of the men to impregnate them.  A glorious day too, she’d even joined the women as if she were one of them, a tall brute of a man had lain on top of her and pinned her down with his weight and mechanically ground away for hours before eventually making sure his job was done.  She’d rewarded him with a kiss, after taking his head of course.  She kept the head on a pike for a while just to watch the flesh rot away.  Now though she desired a child of her own, to carry on the family line.  She selected ten males to make sure, one each day, and what days they were.  She’d long since given up wearing clothing, preferring to be as naked as her slaves, for she was their queen after all, and they showed her great devotion, several times each.

 

 

 

The Doctor poured over the TARDIS controls and spent time in each of the ship’s seventeen libraries.  She threw bones and even consulted the insides of a veggie burger.

 

“Hey, that was my lunch.”  Erin complained.

 

“Sorry.”  The Doctor replied.  “I guess I got a little carried away.”

 

 

 

Finally the task was done and the Queen didn’t bleed between her legs anymore.  She was with child, at last.  Her line would go on.  She would teach her baby to walk and talk and enjoy killing and slaughter and love and the royal duty.  She would then await the time of deposition.  She had killed her own father even as he tied to force himself upon her like so many times before.  She’d put a chip in his head and now he was her cleaner.  She watched him as she licked the floor clean with his tongue.  It was all he was good for; he’d killed his own father, how boring.  She’d had a sister but well she didn’t like competition and after fixing Daddy, well poor old sis took her place on her back with all the other slave girls, ten times a night at least, not that she was grateful for her mind was as empty as any other maidservant.

 

 

 

Erin was glad when the Doctor finally stopped moping about and got out of those tartan pyjamas she’d taken to wearing the last few days.  “I’m not sure about the leather kilt.”

 

“You don’t have to wear yours.”  The Doctor replied.

 

“You thought I’d wear one of those?”  Erin didn’t know whether to be appalled first or offended.  “I’m strictly a denim skirt kind of gal.”

 

“It’s a bit Chav though, isn’t it?”  The Doctor replied.

 

“Fine.”  Erin unbuckled her belt, pulled her skirt down to her ankles and stepped out of the O of fabric.  “But you so owe me.”  She pulled the leather skirt/kilt/whatever up to her hips and found that they fitted her perfectly.  “I’m not going au naturale though.”

 

“To each her own.”  The Doctor replied and moved towards the door control.

 

“You’re seriously going outside, like that?”  Erin laughed.

 

“Of course not.”  The Doctor replied.  “You are.”  She opened the door and two large men, wearing just loin cloths entered the TARDIS.  “Here she is, as I promised.”

 

The first male grabbed Erin’s arm.  “She is too young to be processed.  She will join the underage offspring.”

 

The second male undressed.  “Your mental implant has cleansed you.  We will now mate.”

 

“Of course.”  The Doctor replied.  “I will now do the Queen’s bidding.”  She undressed.  “Impregnate me, for the glory of Doria this body will bear its first child.”

 

Erin screamed as she was dragged out of the TARDIS and she saw the Doctor being raped by the other man.  “Get your hands off of me!”  She screamed and tried to escape but he was much too strong for her…

 

This was a difficult chapter to write, from a creative viewpoint.  I don't want to make the Dorians too similar to the Children of Solaira from Book One, but I did want to highlight the soulless insectoid society where individual thought doesn't exist (apart from the mad empress of course) and I really wanted to stress th threat they posed was not just a physical danger but also a cultural and emotional danger too as the Dorian people are just as much victims of their own technology as those they conquor.  Future stories will concentrate more on the soulless society rather than their mad leader as I want to present them as a serious and credible danger and while the mad woman in charge is a good counterpoint to the bland society I need them to become even more dangerous before the end...

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