he White Horse of Uffington
in Oxfordshire for centuries has stood the test of time and defeated the
elements. It is said that if you stand in its eye, turn around three times and
make a wish, your desire will come true.A foolish myth? But some
people still come to carry out the ritual wishing for everything from a packet
of sweets to total domination of the world.
At this precise moment in
time a priest was standing at the very centre of that eye...what is this man
wishing for? What are his intentions? Surely no harm could come from such a
harmless superstition could it? Even from a priest?
~~~
hrough the Time/Space
Vortex the familiar shaped TARDIS belonging to the Doctor continued its journey
to new sights and new adventures. Aboard, the Doctor now in his seventh
regeneration a shorter and somewhat 'bouncier' character than his previous
incarnation had been, was actually making minor repairs to the TARDIS console.
Minor repairs were fine, it wasn't the chameleon circuit ( which was in need of
major repair ) it was simply a communications link, but at least it was a
start.
'Ah, that's better,' he
declared to himself - there was no one in the console room with him. Ace had
gone off to get herself something to eat as she hadn't eaten since they left
18th century Earth and that was two days ago - 'Just a matter of disconnecting
Line Nine and we'll have internal communications to the dining area restored.'
As the Doctor continued his repair there was a spark from the chip board he was
working on causing him to drop it onto the console, which in turn caused a
short circuiting of the lighting aboard the TARDIS.
'Oh great, that's all we
need!' The Doctor's hands moved across the console in order to undo the damage
he had caused. Within moments, full lighting had been restored and a bewildered
Ace entered.
'What's going on, Professor?
I thought you were trying to repair some internal communication not risk giving
me a heart attack in the process by messing about with the lights.'
'I don't understand what
happened. I was in the process of disconnecting Line Nine when...' The Doctor
was cut short. He suddenly found himself trying to keep his balance from a
sudden attack of the mind.
Ace looked at him, 'Are you
alright, Professor?'
The Doctor appeared to be in
some sort of trance. He tried to speak but nothing. Not a word emitted.
'Hey, Professor, snap out of
it!' Ace shook him which only resulted in the Doctor almost falling on top of
her before hitting the floor. She pulled the Doctor upright and gave him some
support. He began to mumble to himself.
Within his mind images began
to form... a car... a man...his name...Rattacomb...Danger, Rattacomb in
danger...He sees the car moving fast...he cries a warning.... 'No! No! No!' At
that moment the Doctor awoke and came face to face with Ace.
'Doctor, are you alright'
Ace asked, her voice soft, caring.
'Yes, yes, I'm fine. I must have
passed out.'
Ace helped him up off the
floor. 'Who's Rattacomb?' she quietly asked
The Doctor turned to look at
her. 'Rattacomb? I've no idea. I don't recall ever knowing of such a person.'
He suddenly became curious as to how Ace knew of Rattacomb. Ace answered before
the question arose.
'You called out his name. It
sounded as if this Rattacomb was in danger.' A puzzled look came over Ace's
face. Noting this, the Doctor went on:
ondon 1989 - a bustling
metropolis, even in the suburbs, amongst the many sky scrapers that lined the
sky, stood the unimposing NATO building. Here amongst the many employees worked
the man who appeared all too briefly in the Doctor's vision...Rattacomb.
