in the
VIII.
“Leela!” the Doctor cried out to the smoky nothingness that surrounded him. He could see nothing except what his mind could produce, and he was painfully aware that he was being overtaken by strange images and thoughts that swirled in and out of his unconscious mind. He kept seeing Leela, a former companion, rushing through the jungle of the land of the lost, knife unsheathed. He also saw the shaded images of several other former companions, both living and dead: Adric, Tegan, Turlough, and each one in turn seemed to be in some sort of emotional crisis. They needed his help, but he was unable to attend to their needs. Every time he thought he could move, he felt like he was moving in slow motion, or that he was glued to the floor where he lay, wrestling to reclaim the ability to control his own thoughts and actions.
Other images came into his mind. He saw Vikings, soldiers from Earth’s past wars, a cowboy and an Indian, a Cro-Magnon giant, and even images of alternate versions of Rick, Holly, and Will Marshall from past Earth eras: cave-man versions of them, younger versions of them, older versions of them. It was all very confusing, especially when he saw another family in the land of the lost interacting with a cave-girl and talking Sleestaks that looked entirely different from those he’d already encountered. He even saw a group of humans who seemed somewhat similar to the Marshall family, but were clearly incompetent in every way imaginable, and absolutely the type of people he didn’t like to spend time with if he had any say in the matter.
The guttural howling began once again, and the Doctor lay perfectly still, this time listening and allowing the images to come without resistance. He didn’t want to suffer even one minute longer of the last images he’d seen - they were simply that impalatable.
In his mind’s eye the Doctor saw a rock wall with the words “BEWARE OF SLEESTAK.”
He saw a very nice painting of a Sleestak from a past era standing beside a dinosaur with tufts of spikes that jutted out of its neck. This Sleestak was more humanoid than those he’d encountered, aside from Enik, and its stance smacked of pride, arrogance, and perhaps a portion of vanity.
It was almost as if he were being given a silent tour of the ancient history of the land of the lost, mixed with a few glimmers of things to come.
He saw another wall with images of his original incarnation, and all previous regenerations. Standing beside him in the depiction were three other versions of himself, he assumed, but he chose not to study them too closely so as to avoid what he had come to call “spoilers” after being introduced to the term after meeting a strange, beautiful woman with long curly hair on one of his outer space romps of many decades earlier.
The growling began anew, and the Doctor felt himself coming to his senses. His eyes opened, and he looked about, uncertain of his location. Then he looked up, and he realized that he was in the bottom of a pit, swallowed in a massive cloud of the strange smoke that somehow tried to probe his mind and, when it wasn’t allowed, it tried a little too aggressively, forcing him - against his will - to assent to a cursory inspection of his mind’s contents. He only gave away so much about himself, though, and felt confident that whoever, or whatever, had searched his thoughts hadn’t uncovered anything that he needed to be concerned about. While being mind-probed, though, he returned the favor as best he could, and the ancient mental consciousness that combed through his mental archives was definitely of Gallifreyan origin. The Doctor was convinced: the land of the lost was created by Time Lords of the past, and was most likely the result of their initial experiments with time travel. The growl grew louder, and the Doctor could tell that whatever was producing the sound wasn’t moving, as if it was stuck in place.
“Hello?” the Doctor asked, shuffling through the smoke in search of the sound he knew was echoing all over the upper chambers. “Anyone there?”
He carefully made his way along the stones he could barely see by keeping track of the closest rock wall to him with his extended hands, tapping two steps ahead in advance of every single step he was about to make. The growl grew even louder, and he began to realize that whatever was making such a commotion was just ahead in the fog. He squinted to his left and his right and saw the skeletal remains of Sleestaks and other creatures that had, presumably, been tossed down into this pit, and despite this, he steeled his resolve and moved closer to the source of the sound. :”Hello?” he asked once more.
The shape in the fog was becoming clearer and clearer, and when the Doctor realized what he was encountering, he was completely astonished.
“I am the God of the Pit,” said the strange voice that suddenly echoed into the Doctor’s mind. It broadcast thoughts into the Time Lord’s head that revealed its history to him, and everything about the creature before him began to make perfect sense.
“But - you’re so small!” smiled the Doctor. And, indeed, the beast was not much larger than a miniature pony from planet Earth. It looked something like a frog with a single, cyclopean eye, and was definitely reptilian. Atop its head was a long, extended proboscis that, whenever it exhaled, made a deep, echoing sound that wouldn’t seem strange coming from a large woodwind instrument. Periodically, the sound it emitted presented itself as a horrific growl that, very quickly, the Doctor began to ignore as he shared its telepathic exchange.
“Size means nothing,” the creature intoned in the Doctor’s mind. “as I’m sure you well know. But at times it can be advantageous. Fortunately for me, although I am of small size, my mind is quite large compared to most creatures in this place, and to protect myself from the Sleestaks, I hid within this pit when my craft was sucked into the spacial anomaly that has entrapped so many others here in this accursed place, and emitted loud bellows to persuade them to believe that I was much larger than I actually am. I have been here for untold eons…” and as it revealed this information to the Doctor, it also shared with him what it knew of the portals that led into the land of the lost.
---
Enik was extremely concerned about the Doctor’s well-being, and addressed the Skull of Primacy one last time. “Why was the Time Lord thrown into the pit below?”
The Skull blinked with preternatural light, and finally answered. “The human was to interact with the God of the Pit. It was foretold that this must be; the human has brought to the land of the lost the Pylon of Wood. It must be relocated. It must be conjoined with the Pylon of Stone, and the Pylon of Metal. When all three travel through the portals of water, smoke, and soil, the Great Happening will then occur. We must ensure the Great Happening. The Great Happening has been spoken of since time immemorial. The Great Happening will soon be upon us.”
It was when these final words were spoken that the Doctor walked into the room. He had found his way out of the pit, and pondered what he’d just heard. He silently took Enik by the arm and led him out of the Library of the Skulls, and they walked through the caverns and out of the Lost City as if they had been there countless times before.
“Enik,” the Doctor said with no particular emotion at all. “I think you need to see the interior of my TARDIS.” And they set out to do exactly that.
---
Will Marshall and Chaka were gathering fruit in the jungle, and Chaka was listening as Will grumbled about the same things he’d always grumbled about. “Chaka,” Will said. “No offense to you, but I will be so happy when I return to my appropriate time period. I miss my house, I miss my bed, and I miss watching television.” Will was especially fond of YOUNG DOCTOR KILDARE, and wondered if the program was still on the air, or if it had unceremoniously ended with no warning like his past life had when his family had fallen over that accursed waterfall. “Where’s Holly?” he asked.
Chaka had no idea, and merely shrugged his shoulders. “No Hahrry,” he muttered, content to continue with the gathering process.
“Well, I’m going looking for her,” Will groused, dumping what was in his arms to the ground.
He had no idea what he was about to walk into, and by the time he caught the familiar scent of one of Grumpy’s more rambunctious T-Rex offspring directly behind him, it was far too late to run.
TO BE CONTINUED…
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