From: Alden Bates To: sadwank@onelist.com Subject: [sadwank] Planet of the Nymphomaniacs - part 3 Date: Thursday, September 03, 1998 09:29 From: "Alden Bates" Doctor Who and the Planet of the Nymphomaniacs by Alden Bates A slightly humorous story featuring the eighth Doctor and a cast of a dozen or so. Chapter Three On the second week after their arrival, Weena banged on the TARDIS door and waited until Grant stuck his head out warily. "It's all right, you can come out now," she said. "They've stopped trying to sleep with us." Grant looked left to right. "Where's the Doctor?" "Talking to some of the men. Come on, they won't bite. Not any more, anyway." It took a bit more coaxing before Grant emerged. The Doctor turned out to be sitting in front of a hut talking to two excessively beefy men in flax kilts. Action movie stars, Grant thought. Germanic ones with big muscles and a tendency to carry big guns. "How many A's in aardvark?" the one who was standing asked. "Three." The man nodded and turned away, scrawling on the leaf he was carrying. Grant read "AAARDVARK" before the man disappeared into one of the redesigned huts. "Ah, Grant!" said the Doctor as his young companion sat down. "Meet Edward. That was Cavor you just passed." Grant offered his hand to be shaken and had it mangled in Edward's grip. "Ouch. Pleased to meet you." "Nice to make your acquaintance," Edward smiled amiably. He spoke with an upper-class English accent. "It was perfectly safe, you know," the Doctor said to Grant. "You didn't have to hide in there." "Not when the only food around is either laced with stuff that makes you bonk the nearest living thing to within an inch of its life, or those revolting jelly babies." "Oh?" the Doctor looked puzzled. "I might've done something I'd later have regretted." The Doctor still looked puzzled so Grant decided to quit while he was ahead. "What's the plan?" "Yesterday a spacecraft landed. We had to convince them they'd got the wrong planet." It was Grant's turn to look puzzled. "But why were they... oh..." He broke off and thought for a bit. "So I take it that it is listed on _some_ star charts then. Who were they?" "Drahvins." Edward leaned forwards. "I've found evidence of previous landings going back quite a few years," he stated. "Although none of us remember much from before the Doctor arrived, it seems obvious that people have been using this world and us for their own purposes." "I'm convinced," the Doctor added. "that this planet was terraformed and seeded with life specifically for this purpose." "We've been set up," said Weena. "Literally." Grant rolled his eyes. "So what now? We grab the next person to land and ask them nicely if they'll tell us who made all this?" "Yes." Grant was about to deliver an incredibly witty retort when one of the men came running towards them. He averted his eyes and fought down the insane urge to burst out laughing. Evidently, he thought, not all of them have figured out clothing. Weena, he noticed, was watching with interest, as was Edward. "Ah, Frobisher," the Doctor said. "You named him after an penguin?!" Grant cut in before the new man had a chance to speak. The Doctor shot him an impatient look and turned back to Frobisher. "Another ship's landed. By the waterfall this time," the newcomer said. "No one's emerged yet." "Thank you. Grant, stay here. Weena, come with me." Grant sat and watched as the Doctor and Weena sprinted off into the bush after Frobisher. Left out again. He turned to Edward. "So, exactly what do you lot do around here?" *** The waterfall bubbled from the top of a rocky outcrop, as if by artificial means. The Doctor, Weena and Frobisher perched atop the outcrop and looked down on the clearing below. In the centre of the clearing was a large, disc-shaped spacecraft. It had bulky anti-gravity pods and metallic supporting struts. Nearby, two men were chopping trees with large axes and totally ignoring the craft as if such things were an everyday occurrence. The Doctor observed a ramp extending on the far side of the craft, before a short figure in a black cloak emerged and attempted to engage one of the men in conversation. The Doctor took Weena by the hand, and together they descended to the clearing. The figure, they could see as they approached, had long, red hair. She was talking to the man, who had put his axe down. "Actually," said the man. "I don't think I want to do that very much at all. Thank you for asking." The Doctor tapped her on the shoulder. "Excuse me," he started, breaking off as the woman turned to face him. "Mel?" She was a number of years older, but still easily recognisable as the woman he had travelled with a regeneration ago. "Doctor!" Mel said, a shocked look on her face. "What are _you_ doing here?" "I might ask you the same thing." Mel stared at him, hard. "If this is about our last meeting. The Land of Fiction was -" "No need to explain," Mel cut in. "I'm glad to see you. I was just stopping here to ask for directions. Only..." She glanced at Weena. "from what I've heard about this place, I'd expected the natives to be... friendlier." The Doctor frowned. "All too friendly, Mel. Someone's been using this planet as a pleasure resort." "That's terrible," Mel pointed to the spacecraft. "Come inside and we'll talk about it. I'm willing to do everything in my power to help these poor people." Weena rolled her eyes as they started up the ramp. "How did you come to be here, anyway?" the Doctor was asking. "Last time I saw you I returned you to Earth." "That's a very long story." Mel paused at the top of the ramp and pressed a button. The ramp retracted and the door closed. She turned to the Doctor and grinned. "I'll tell you over drinks." "You don't drink. Do you?" Mel ignored him and opened a hatch in the wall. "Scampy, stand guard outside." "I obey." The Doctor froze at the grating voice which answered. Mel turned back, opening the cloak to reveal a bizarre outfit in black leather: a halter-top and g-string, held together by a number of straps. The outfit was completed with knee-high spiked-heel boots, elbow-length gloves and a spiked collar. A whip was hanging coiled at her side. "Well," said Weena, looking at the Doctor in a new light. "I thought you said you didn't do that sort of thing." *** "Let me get this straight," said the Doctor. With no other choice, they had followed Mel to a round chamber which she claimed was her "living room". This consisted of a ribbed metallic walkway around a central cushioned pit. A luminescent globe and glowing stripes on the wall provided light. "You're an alternate version of Melanie Bush. You're a computer programmer, Dominatrix and Emperor of the Daleks." "That wouldn't leave you a lot of spare time," Weena said from another cushion. "Given that this is the third time we've met, Doctor, I'm rather annoyed you don't remember me. Especially after last time." "Why's that?" "We had sex." The Doctor choked and spat his mouthful of drink back out. "I can see why you'd be a bit miffed," Weena grinned. "It was your previous incarnation," Mel was stalking around the perimeter of the room, the Doctor's eyes were now locked on her. "You've been messing with the Time lines," the Doctor said indignantly. "You can't meet my current incarnation and then go having sex with the previous ones! Time doesn't like it." "I wouldn't worry about it; I've had sex with her as well." The Doctor paled and sank down in the cushion. "Anyway," continued Mistress Mel. "Enough about that. What's been happening on this planet? What have you done?" The Doctor was regaining his composure. "I've introduced a pure strain of plant life to the ecosystem. The people are no longer getting a dose of your aphrodisiac. I assume you're behind all this." Mel paused in her circling and looked down at him, a faint sneer on her face. "Just how many other people know about this planet anyway?" he asked. "A mere handful," Mel started ticking the names off on her fingers. "The Drahvins, the Sperling, the Sontarans, the Bannermen, most of the Time Lord renegades, except you of course..." "I've been wondering about that." "I hacked into the Time Lord Matrix," said Mel. "And removed all records of this planet's existence. It wasn't difficult to use the Matrix as a stepping stone to your TARDIS data banks." The Doctor looked unimpressed. "This planet's no use to you any more. They're all far too busy to think about sex." "This is bad," said Mel. "What?" "This is very bad." "Why?" "I've eaten some of the fruit." "Oh dear." "Quite a lot of it." Mel jumped down into the pit, landing astride the Doctor. He could now clearly see her eyes, which were dark purple. "Don't expect to get anywhere." "That's what you said last time," she grinned wickedly. "The drink I gave you had a minute trace of the Alpha three compound. Quite soon you won't be able to resist having sex with me." "Can I watch?" Weena asked, crawling over to join them. "No!" The Doctor struggled free and climbed out of the pit. He stood at the edge looking down at them. "I took the precaution of immunising myself and Weena against the drug several weeks ago. It won't affect us." "I think you'll find the plants contain the Alpha _two_ compound..." The Doctor glanced at Weena. A pair of violet eyes stared back. He sighed, reflecting that his previous self was much better at this sort of thing. "You don't have a choice," Mel purred. She sat back and uncoiled her whip, watching it snake out to its full length. The Doctor walked to the sealed door and rubbed a hand on his chin thoughtfully. "I challenge you," he spun around. "If I win, you will do nothing to alter the progress I've made here." "And if I win?" "You get me. For a week." "A month." The Doctor swallowed. "All right, a month. But in addition and whatever the outcome is, you must take Grant to the planet of his choice." Mel stepped out of the pit. "I choose the game. House rules." "What if you lose?" Weena asked the Doctor as he joined her. "I don't fancy the prospect of going back to being a sex-addict. It's fun and all, but..." An oblong box dropped into the Doctor's lap. "Ah," he said. "I wasn't aware that there was such a game as 'Strip Monopoly'." *** Grant Markham looked shocked. "The *whole* banana?" "The whole banana," confirmed Edward, staring across the village square at the men frolicking in the pond. Grant thought for a moment. "All of it?" "Yes, all of it." He paused a bit longer. It was no good he was going to have to ask. "Do you eat it afterwards?" It was Edward's turn to look shocked. "No, that would be sick." Grant nodded and stared thoughtfully at the ground for a moment, before turning back to say something. At that point he saw the broad grin on Edward's face and realised he'd been had. "You git!" They were still laughing when Frobisher ran up to them. "This is not good," the messenger said. "They've gone inside with a woman and haven't come out again. And there's a creature on guard." "What sort of creature?" Grant was suddenly attentive. "Metal, about yay high, long stick with a knob on the end. Looks like a giant -" "Daleks," Grant cut in. "It's got to be. But what possible interest would they have with this planet? It's not tactically important or anything, and I can't see a little green blob getting excited over naked humans." "Actually, last month -" Grant silenced Edward with a look. *** Grant and Edward stood at the edge of the clearing, observing the Dalek as it puttered backwards and forwards in front of the saucer. Grant observed it for a time before deciding that the thing that was really wrong about it, was that someone had painted it bright pink, and then added little yellow flowers all over it. "Perhaps it's to fool people," he said. "I mean, it makes them look less fearsome, so people are less likely to run away and more likely to stand around to get zapped." "You mean, despite the fact that it's waving a pink-coloured multiphase plasma energy projector at their midriff?" Edward asked. "Not when it looks like a plastic egg whisk, no." "You know. I think it's seen us." "What brought you to that conclusion?" "The way the knob thing is waving at us, and the fact that it's coming over to see us. Maybe... Grant?" "Over here!" hissed Grant from behind a bush. "Get down before it shoots you." "I don't think it's going to shoot me," said Edward waving a hand. "It would have done it by now if it was going to." "Excuse me," said the Dalek. "Do you know where I can get a good time?" To Be Continued. ________________________________________________________ ()))______http://homepages.ihug.co.nz/~abates/___)__)__-~ `----------o "Why's your ASCII star destroyer upside-down?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ To unsubscribe from this mailing list, or to change your subscription to digest, go to the ONElist web site, at http://www.onelist.com and select the User Center link from the menu bar on the left.