Lego Doctor Who - The Lost Child - 2

18th Vagabond fleet – Phaylinx Cluster – Year: 3258

 

Almost four hundred years have passed since the great exodus. That’s what Old Man Vale likes to keep saying every time we celebrate new year. Twenty-two years. That’s how many years have passed since he first told me that story. Or at least, that’s the number of years I can remember him telling me that story. You’ll have to excuse the lapse in concentration for the other three years. I did have more pressing priorities as a small child. Namely trying to find something to actually entertain myself on this pile of junk.

 

You’d never believe it was one of the first ships to leave Earth during the exodus. But that probably explains why it actually managed to avoid the solar flares before they scorched the surface of the Earth. If it had actually needed to avoid solar flares the blasted thing probably wouldn’t have broken atmosphere never mind deep space. Or maybe it’s current condition is simply down to poor maintenance. Both are perfectly viable explanations. But I somewhat doubt that the ship’s condition is due to poor maintenance. Vale may be old, but he still knows his way around this ship like the back of his hand.

 

Even more fitting given the state of his hands as well.

 

Thank goodness he’s not able to read minds. He’d probably give me the sack if he could hear just what I was contemplating. Or maybe he wouldn’t. I can never really tell with Vale just what’s going through that head of his. Sometimes he seems as though he couldn’t be happier aboard this vessel, but then he can suddenly look as though he’s trapped here against his will. I probably don’t help things either.

 

Especially considering how I often turn up late to my shift. Really, at this point I should be more considerate. Vale’s struggling to do things more and more each day. Unfortunately, given the limited resources available to us after our attempts to colonise Rygus 7, we can’t afford to wake up anymore of the screw until we find Earth 2. It’s a similar situation for the rest of the crew in the flotilla. We’re all struggling to get by as is. An extra pair of hands would be great, but we can’t risk wasting the resources. Not until we make planetfall.

 

So for now, it’s just the four of us. Vale, Jerro, Hala and myself. The pilots of the Peregrin. Vessel number four in a colonisation flotilla of twenty-six, previously vessel number 6 in a flotilla of thirty. But despite how much she insists otherwise, Hala knows that Vale’s time is running out. That’s probably why she lets Jerro shadow him so often. Not to entertain her son, but to ensure he knows his future. After all, when Vale finally departs this universe we’ll still need his knowledge to survive until we find Earth 2. Our futures rely on Jerro being able to learn all he can in the little time he has left.

 

He’s only ten years old, and yet he could soon become the Peregrin’s chief engineer. Amazing really. My dad would have thought me daft to think I could maintain such a vessel at only ten years old. Academy or not, no-one is ever truly prepared for the day they must take command. I can only hope the the old man sticks around long enough so the weight of a thousand people’s lives aren’t pressing down on a ten year old boy.

 

Vale: Samuel!

 

Samuel: Can’t I get just a few moments of peace?

 

Vale: No more than I get, I’m afraid. We’ve got an increase in mass in the starboard engine so some reason. We’ll need to check it out. Bring your tools.

 

Samuel: Sure. Wait. Where are you going?

 

Vale: I’ve been at this blasted compressor for the last three hours. I need some coffee.

Samuel: Care to get me a cup?

 

Vale: You know the protocols.

 

Samuel: Right one cup per shift. Last thing we’d want is for the maintenance crew to actually be awake whilst holding this scrap pile together.

 

Vale: Stop moaning. This ship won’t fix itself.

 

Samuel: What a wonderful day that would be.

 

I can’t wait for planetfall. The sooner I can get off this death machine the better. As I head to my station to grab my tools I decide to do my usual daily activities. Brush hair, check life support systems and ask the question.

 

Samuel: Computer. Estimated time of arrival at Earth 2.

 

Hala: I am sorry Sam, I cannot calculate that request at this moment.

 

Samuel: Do you ever get bored of saying that stupid response?

 

Hala: No more than I do when you keep asking that stupid question. You sleep alright?

 

Samuel: About as well as usual.

 

Hala: Well I keep offering to let you use your emergency cryo pod, but you keep turning it down.

 

Samuel: That’s for an emergency. The last thing I want is for us to lose oxygen pressure and suddenly find my pod malfunctioning due to overuse.

 

Hala: Well if you want to avoid that, you’d best get down to the starboard engine and see what that increase in mass is about.

 

Samuel: Yes, mother.

 

Hala: Don’t get snarky with me sunshine. I’ll wake her up if you’re not careful.

 

Samuel: Good grief, I’m going. I’m going.

 

With the non-essential systems offline, it takes me a good twenty minutes to make my way over to the starboard engine. The increase in mass is likely a build up of compressed hydrogen which ultimately amounts to no difference. We’re travelling in the vacuum of space, weight and size have no effect until he enter an atmosphere.

 

It’s not until I arrive at the entrance hatch to the engine that I find what’s caused the increase.

 

A blue police box.

 

Samuel: What the heck is this?

 

Vale: An old police box. 1960’s I believe.

 

Samuel: How did it get here? It wasn’t here yesterday when I did my usual check.

 

Vale: Must have been sucked in by the engines.

Samuel: The largest things the engines suck in are gases. How could they have sucked in a police box? What even would a police box be doing in space anyways?

 

Vale: Must have been some historical debris jettisoned by one of the other ships to lighten themselves.

 

Samuel: Lighten themselves in the vacuum of space?

 

Vale: Not everyone has a logical mind like you, Samuel.

 

Samuel: Tell me about it. So what are we supposed to do with it?

 

Without giving me a response, Vale steps forward to inspect the box. From what I can make out it seems to be made entirely out of wood, merely raising more questions rather than answering any.

 

Samuel: Do you think it’s someone trying to contact us?

 

Vale: Contact us?

 

Samuel: Yeah, maybe they visited Earth once before in the past and this is there way of saying hello.

 

Vale: An interesting idea. That would explain why the box is rather larger than the ones I’ve seen in pictures.

 

Samuel: You think I’m right?

 

Vale: No, but let’s find out. It’s not locked.

 

Vale proceeds to slowly open the door as he peaks his head around. His reaction comes as quite a surprise.

 

Vale: Oh. My. God.

 

Samuel: What is it, Vale?

 

Vale: You have got to take a look at this yourself.

 

Done