Time Out of Mind

There was a voice in the Doctor's head. It was prattling nonsense. He shut it out. He had no time for it, he had to- ...The Doctor realised he was unconscious, and woke up.

“Where am I?” the Doctor snapped at no-one in particular. He sat up, holding his head. “The TARDIS... I was... Energy, draining my...” Suddenly he straightened. “Ben and Polly!” he exclaimed, and focussed on his surroundings at last.
His gaze found a strange young man crouching several feet away, a curious jumble of expressions on an equally curious face. It was bluish-grey. Alien.
“Who are you?” demanded the Doctor, pulling himself together and getting to his feet. The boy stood paralysed for a second.
“Ah... Doctor?” he managed finally.
“That is who I am,” agreed the Doctor. “Know me, do you?”
“Y-yes, that's right,” confirmed the fellow.
“Then be so kind as to tell me what I was doing down there on the floor, hm? And indeed, where in the universe this floor is?”
“We're... On the planet Pryton. You, uh... Passed out-”
“Passed out, did I? Well!” The Doctor did not seem pleased. “And where are Ben and Polly?”
“They're... Back in the TARDIS,” the boy answered. The Doctor studied him. Had that been hesitation? Yes... Well, he would see about that in time.
“So, know about my TARDIS, do you?”
“Yes... You told me.”
“I must say, I don't remember you. Not a thing!” He paused and looked at the boy again. “You aren't one of my travelling companions.” It was as much a statement as a question.
“No... I just met you. I've been helping you.”
“Helping me! And with what do I need help, eh?”
“The Psychologians. They made some kind of mind weapon. You were... Zapped.”
The boy's eyes had flickered, the Doctor noted. Well, well, another lie. He'd get to the bottom of them, soon enough.
“I see. Now where were we going?”
“To the Control Room.”
“The Control Room?”
“Yes... We were going to destroy the weapon... You remember?” the alien asked, hunting for a hint of recognition. The Doctor decided he was being patronised.
“Hm? Yes! Of course I remember! Must you keep pestering me? Come along!” He waved the alien away irritably, but as soon as the boy backed off, he beckoned him to hurry up. The alien rolled his eyes and followed in his wake.

“Strange...” the grey fellow muttered, when they'd been walking for a while.
“What's strange?” demanded the Doctor.
“I was just thinking, we haven't seen any guards recently. There were plenty around when we first arrived, but we haven't met any for ages.”
“And what do you suppose that means?”
“I don't know... They're setting some sort of trap?”
“Maybe, maybe... Or perhaps they have reason to wish to be somewhere else,” the Doctor suggested.

It was an infuriating fact about the Doctor that he was more often than not correct. Much to the dismay of his alien hanger-on, this was one of those times. A scant few minutes since the Doctor had left his ominous suggestion hanging in the air they heard, faintly at first, but growing undeniably louder, the sound of scurrying footsteps in the walls. When they sounded barely more than a few feet away, the alien felt the need to say something.
“Doctor...?” he queried. “Can you hear that?”
“Of course I can hear it!” he snapped. “I am not deaf. I have been able to hear it for just so long as you have. I merely have not yet come up with a solution. Have you?”
“Well, no,” admitted his companion. “We've hardly got much to go on. Or can you devise a plan by listening to footsteps?”
“Indeed not,” said the Doctor, and then, all of a sudden, he sat down. “So I suggest we wait and see.”
The other man hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and sat down beside him.

It didn't take for long for their predators to descend. They came out of service gratings in the ceiling and dropped deftly to the floor. They moved like wild animals, which was somewhat at odds with their appearance...
“Humans!” the alien exclaimed. And indeed they were, after a fashion, but their clothes were ragged and there was little human in the way they stared hungrily as they circled in on the pair.
“Once,” said the Doctor. “Something, hm... I rather think something dreadful has been done to them.” He stared into the eyes of the nearest one. It stared right back. “Regressed to some sort of primal state. Yes, pre-human I should think. Some sort of temporal mind-wave...”
The creatures were within lunging distance.
“Doctor,” the alien said, warily. “Have you g-RUN!”
The boy shoved the Doctor one way as the creatures pounced the other. They collided behind them, snarling and hissing, and the sound of scrabbling footsteps told them they were close at heel.
“I think... you made... a mistake... my boy!” the Doctor shouted between breaths. “These creatures... have been reduced... to pure impulse. I rather think... running... has only incited... their natural... killer instinct!”
“Helpful, Doctor,” panted the boy, a few steps behind. “If you'd thought of it a minute ago.” The Doctor's eyes flashed.
“Oh, but it might be the most helpful thing!” he cried. “Yes, the most helpful! If these creatures have the basic hunting instinct, perhaps they also bow to the dominant male, hm?”
“What-” the boy began, then he froze, mouth open, because the Doctor had turned and was lunging at the creatures, stamping his foot and hollering. It seemed like lunacy, but sure enough, the creatures drew up warily.
“Yes, just as I said,” affirmed the Doctor, “Sub-conscious obedience to a more assertive creature.” He rubbed his chin and gazed around thoughtfully. The creatures craned their necks and swayed, eyeing the pair.
“And now I rather think that it is time to be going.” He looked again at the things, once people, now watching them with animal eyes. “Yes... Time to be going.”

“Definitely a temporal aspect... Retrowave resonance generated by taranium decay, I shouldn't wonder.”
“What are you talking about?” asked the alien, for the Doctor had been muttering such things for some time now.
“Nothing you would understand,” said the Doctor. The alien glared.
“Thanks for your respect.”
“Respect you? Hm, well. Perhaps if you had done something to gain it.” It seemed that asserting himself against the ferals had stirred the Doctor up, and now he had determined to confront the stranger.
“Done anything? What about when you were unconscious – you snore, by the way – I watched out for you then, didn't I?”
“Didn't you, indeed? Well, well, maybe you did.”
“Maybe I did? And what? Maybe I didn't? You don't trust me, do you?” the alien narrowed his eyes.
“Well, perhaps I would be more inclined to trust you if I knew your name!” the Doctor snapped. This gave the boy pause.
“My name..? It's C- Crayne.”
“Crayne is it now?” asked the Doctor, disbelieving. Then suddenly he furrowed his brow and an expression of great perplexity crossed his face. “Do you know, I don't think that it is. What do you make of that, eh? I don't think you're Crayne at all. I think I know your name, though I can't think why. I think it's C'rizz... Yes...! C'rizz!”

***

Once the spark was lit behind the Doctor's eyes, it didn't take long for him to piece it all together, with only occasional prompting.
“So I am not really me at all. I suspected as much. Why would I wear such ridiculous clothing, hm? And I am sorry, my boy, but I'm afraid you're not quite quick enough to hide things from these eyes, eh?” He grinned and tapped the side of his head. “'We arrived' you said. Gave it away, didn't you? So 'I', that is, this new me, arrived here with you. But these... What were they? 'Psychologians'... shot me with this 'regression wave', and turned my mind back a few centuries! My, my, what a going on. Is that right?”
C'rizz took a moment to reply, somewhat stunned by this turn of events.
“Almost, but it was me that got zapped. Then you did some funny Time Lord trick so it affected you instead.”
“Good...” The Doctor smiled distantly. “Then I think after all those years I am still the same man.”
“But Doctor, just before you collapsed, you told me it was vital that I not tell you anything about your current incarnation.”
“And it was!” exclaimed the Doctor. “Why, that wave must have left me in a most delicate state. One wrong word might have damaged my mind irreparably. But clearly this new me didn't think that I might work it out myself, you see? Dear me, I must give myself more credit.”
“You mean, because you worked it out, your brain accepted it, whereas if I just told you, it'd have rejected it?”
“Yes! Very good, dear boy. Very good.” The Doctor stood and dusted himself down. Then he gazed off into distance and gave a little sigh. “And now, I think it is time I said goodbye.”

There was a voice in the Doctor's head; it was his own. Now it filled his head. Now the prattling wasn't nonsense, because this Doctor understood it. It was this Doctor's mind. And this Doctor realised he was unconscious...

…And woke up.

“Doctor?”
“C'rizz!” The Doctor laughed delightedly. “Glad to see me?”
“Yes! But... How did you...”
“Change back? Ah, that was easy once I'd worked out who I was. You see the regression wave has a temporal aspect. It doesn't just change people's minds, it exposes them to the past. That's why those humans had retreated to a pre-human state. But a Time Lord mind also has a temporal aspect. That's why I didn't become one of those creatures too. And it enabled me to fastforward myself back to my present day mind. Much more comfortable in here.” He smiled, but C'rizz's grin faltered.
“You mean... If you hadn't done whatever it was... I'd have been one of those things, too?”
“That's right.”
“In that case,” said C'rizz, “Let's get to that control room and shut this place down. For good.”

***

There was a voice in C'rizz's head.

There were many voices.

Now they were shouting, afraid. He closed his eyes against the tumult and thought of the Doctor and Charley. His friends; they were stability, they made him who he was, made him the man he wanted to be. But the Doctor had changed. Whatever had been done to him – had nearly been done to C'rizz – echoed through the Eutermesan's mind. He could feel the shifts in the Time Lord's nature threatening to unseat his own like a tide across loose shale. C'rizz feared the regression wave. He feared what it might do to him. He remembered those primal humans. He doubted it would stop there...

C'rizz suppressed his fear as they entered the Control Room, as the Doctor explained the plan, as he began wrenching up cables and flicking switches. Now he daren't move lest his horror overwhelm him.
It was a simple plan. The Doctor would set up a counterwave in the complex's resonance matrix. This would cause a rapidly amplifying harmonic that would cripple the matrix, silencing the transmitters and, conveniently, generating a shockwave sure to attract the authorities. The Doctor reckoned the guards would give in shortly afterward. After all, it was the Psychologians who'd been tampering with nature, no reason they should get dragged down too.
There was just one problem - the Doctor was in a rush. They'd sealed the door but it wouldn't hold for long. He'd had no time to check his calculations. And if he'd made a mistake, the counterwave could be every bit as devastating and terrible as the regression wave.

You had to trust the Doctor. You had to. You couldn't live this life if you didn't. But... Which Doctor? An hour ago he'd been a completely different person. A person who heretofore had shown no sign of existing. How much did C'rizz really know about the Doctor? How much didn't he know? Could he trust him? When the alternative was... Again he thought of those debased humans... The cabling was strewn mere feet away. It would take a moment to stop the Doctor making a terrible mistake...

Glancing up, C'rizz saw the Doctor frozen, hesitating - he didn't trust himself! He wasn't going to do it! The guards were at the door...

A memory surfaced in C'rizz's thoughts. Or... Was it a memory? Just for a moment, it was more like a voice in his head.

'Perhaps if you had done something to gain it.'

C'rizz strode forward, shouldered the Doctor aside, and pushed the button.

***

“Well!” exclaimed Charley Pollard, flopping into a chair in C'rizz's room hours later. “That is certainly not my idea of Allan Quartermain!”
“What are we talking about?” asked C'rizz dozily.
“Oh, honestly, C'rizz! The picture I went to see. Do wake up, it's nearly lunchtime.”
“Not everybody spent yesterday on a jolly outing!” he grumbled.
“Oh yes, the Doctor said something about that. What happened?”
“It wasn't very pleasant,” said C'rizz, his face darkening. “Misguided idiots messing with people's heads.” There was an awkward pause, so C'rizz added, “Oh! And I met the Doctor.”
“Ah, C'rizz...?” Charlie gave a bemused chuckle. “Are you sure they didn't mess with your head? You met the Doctor ages ago.”
“My head's fine.” His face soured again. “Despite their efforts.”
He filled her in on events, recieving a barrage of questions about the 'other' Doctor. As he did so, his face took on an unreadable expression. Chameleonic, like his skin. Eventually he sighed.
“He didn't trust me,” he said.
Charley laughed.
“Aw, poor C'rizz! I suppose you can't blame him, you were hiding something.”
“Yeah...” said C'rizz. “I guess I was.”
“Well, we've got good old, familiar Doctor back now. Doctor Classic,” Charley smiled.
“Yeah,” said C'rizz. “Now where's lunch?” But even as they sauntered to the kitchen, joking and chattering, C'rizz couldn't help thinking that the Doctor didn't seem that familiar at all, any more.