The Doctor glanced over at his companion. "Well?" he asked.
Grant Markham had been travelling with the Doctor for a while now. He had seen many things, beautiful alien vistas, strange beings and structures that boggled the mind. This, however, was a bit special.
"Amazing!" he declared.
The TARDIS was behind them, sitting in the centre of a small, empty transparent dome. Over their heads was the silent majesty of space, dominated by the giant planet Jupiter, which appeared close enough to touch.
The Doctor smiled at Grant's reaction. "It is spectacular, isn't it?" He was wearing his usual colourful ensemble. A long coat of many fabrics and colours, a green and orange striped waistcoat over red and black striped trousers, green shoes with red spats and a purple cravat with white spots.
"And we're on one of the moons?" Grant asked.
The Doctor nodded. "Europa. Mankind is in the process of terra forming it at the moment."
"I suppose we're going to explore."
The Time Lord smiled. "You suppose correctly!" Still smiling, he led his companion towards an access tube, which led in turn to the main dome complex.
Further in the base was a hive of activity. Workers, support crew, traders and security people passed them by, going about their business.
The Doctor and Grant paused at a media console. There was a constant news programme playing.
"...the top stories this quarter. President Carlson had pledged his full support for the peace negotiations between the Galactic Federation and the Velgorns. A new earthquake has shaken the ancient ruins of San Francisco. And here on Europa, scientists are still baffled by the apparent discovery of a spacecraft deep in the ice fields. Is it a hoax or is it genuine? Time will tell. We'll bring you news as it happens. Now, a message from our sponsor."
The Doctor and Grant looked at each other. Grant knew the expression on the Doctor's face only too well.
"You want to help, don't you?"
The Doctor nodded. "This could be a major scientific discovery."
"I don't suppose there is any point in my saying that it isn't any of our business."
"No point at all," the Doctor said. He was already pushing buttons below the screen.
Grant looked over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to find out where they might have taken that spacecraft. Aha!" The Doctor had called up a map on the screen. His finger jabbed at one particular area.
"Access restricted," Grant read. "I don't like the sound of that."
"Nonsense," the Doctor exclaimed. "That's just to frighten away the tourists."
"Well, it's working on me," Grant told him.
"Piffle!" was the Doctor's reply. "Come along, Watson, the game's afoot!"
***
The guard outside the door to the secure hanger eyed the Doctor and Grant suspiciously as they approached. He rested his hand on the butt of his energy pistol.
"Halt. This is a restricted area."
The Doctor beamed at the guard. "Good. Very good." He turned to Grant. "See, I told you that the guards in this section were superior to all the others."
"So you did," Grant bluffed in return.
The Doctor grimaced. "That one at the spaceport didn't have anything like the authoritative bearing or manner of this fine fellow." He turned to the guard. "Name!" he barked.
"Denton, code number three one seven six five two alpha," the guard replied without thinking.
"Well, Officer Denton," said the Doctor in a more relaxed tone, "I'll see that you get a special mention in my report. Come along, Officer Markham."
Denton saluted as the Doctor and Grant breezed past him, through the door and into the restricted hanger.
***
"Won't he realise that we're not superior officers on inspection duty?" Grant asked once they were inside.
The Doctor shook his head. "The mentality of the military mind," he explained. "He believes we are superiors, therefore we are."
They quickly established they were in the right place. A pale green bullet shaped craft, fifty metres long and twenty high, dominated the centre of the hanger. Around it was a crowd of white-coated men and women.
The Doctor pushed through them and approached the ship. After a nervous pause, Grant followed.
The Time Lord had his hands pressed against the hull of the ship. There was a faint vibration, a slight hum of power from within the craft.
"Hey, who are you?" demanded one of the white coats, stepping forward to confront the Doctor.
The Doctor turned to the man, beaming. "I'm the Doctor, and this is my friend, Grant." He pumped the man's hand vigorously. "And you are?"
The man was slightly caught off balance. "Turner. Professor Douglas Turner," he replied, pushing his glasses back up his narrow nose.
"Not THE Professor Douglas Turner?" the Doctor inquired. "The author of that brilliant paper on Mankind's early ventures into space?"
"Well, it was quite acclaimed," Turner said, preening.
The Doctor put an arm around Turner's shoulder. "Remind me to tell you about the Mars Polar Lander incident of 1999," he said quietly.
The Time Lord steered the Professor around to the other side of the craft. A hatch was visible on this side.
"This looks very familiar," the Doctor commented. "I'm sure I've seen this technology before." He rummaged in his pockets, producing a well-thumbed paperback book. Grant could just read the title, "Jane's Spacecraft of the Galaxy" as the Doctor flicked through it. Frowning, he thrust it back into his pocket and moved to examine the hatch.
"We've not been able to open it, Doctor," Turner told him.
"That's because I've only just arrived," the Doctor replied. His questing fingers had found a sunken handle under the doorway. He pulled the hatch.
With a hiss of released pressure, the door began to swing open.
The hatch swung fully open, revealing nothing but a rectangle of blackness. A rank smell assailed their nostrils, causing Grant and Turner to cough.
The Doctor had discovered a small but powerful torch in his pocket. He approached the opening.
"Are you sure we should go inside?" Grant asked his friend, looking nervously into the darkness.
"I'm positive it's quite safe," the Doctor said.
"How positive?"
"One hundred percent," came the confident reply. Grant looked at him questioningly. "Alright, ninety percent. Seventy five percent?" the Doctor sighed. "Oh, very well, I'm not sure at all. But somebody is going to explore the inside of this ship. It might as well be us."
"Why should we be the ones eaten first by whatever monster is lurking in there?"
The Doctor frowned. "Where's you sense of adventure, Grant?"
"It's taking a week off to recover from our last adventure."
The Doctor huffed. "Well, that wasn't my fault. How was I to know the TARDIS had landed in the middle of the Sontaran War Ministry?"
"Because it never lands where you expect it to," Grant replied.
The Doctor scowled. "Stay here if you feel safer. I'm going inside."
The Time Lord stepped carefully through the hatchway. He was quietly pleased when he realised Grant was behind him. Professor Turner brought up the rear.
The torch beam illuminated a bank of machinery opposite the hatch. It seemed almost organic. The Doctor ran a cautious hand over the panel.
"This does seem very familiar," he said almost to himself.
"Good familiar or bad familiar?" Grant wanted to know.
"I'm not sure," the Doctor said, moving on.
Sighing, Grant followed the bobbing light down the corridor.
He ran into the back of a stationary Doctor shortly afterwards. The Time Lord was standing under an archway, his torch playing over the walls of the chamber beyond.
"Flight control area," the Doctor decided. "The bridge, as it were."
"Well, it seems pretty deserted," Grant commented, relief evident in his tone.
"I wonder who built this ship?" said Professor Turner.
"I think I can help you there," the Doctor told him, stepping forward. His torch had picked out a chair, its back to them.
Reaching forward, the Doctor gave the chair a slight push. Slowly, it turned, revealing its occupant.
The skeletal remains were bipedal and humanoid, but definitely not human. The hands and feet ended in claws. The mouth was smaller, as was the nasal cavity. Above this were two sunken eye sockets and above and between them was a shallower third socket. The top of the skull was dominated by fan shaped ridges of bone.
"What is it?" Grant asked, expecting the Doctor to know. His friend didn't let him down.
"It's a member of Earth's original intelligent species, known now as Earth Reptiles. They were originally christened Silurians by the scientist who first encountered them."
"I never knew they developed space flight," Turner commented.
"Neither did I," the Doctor replied. He swung his torch over the instrument panel. "Aha!" he declared.
"Found something?" Grant inquired.
"Yes, the source of that faint hum of power I detected outside." He drew their attention to a light on the console, glowing feebly.
Turner peered at it over the top of his spectacles at the light. "Power systems?"
"Some form of communications device, unless I miss my guess," the Time Lord stated. He pressed a button above the light, which began to flicker. Nothing else happened.
Frowning, the Doctor pressed a button below the light instead. A small, shiny cube slid out of the console. The light died.
"Just enough residual power for the log recorder," the Doctor said, holding up the cube for their inspection. "Now all we need is something that can read it."
***
It was the following day before the local representative of the Earth Reptile Council arrived on Europa. He brought a data reader with him.
Acktar bowed low to the Doctor and Professor Turner, both of whom returned the gesture. Grant remained in the background.
The Doctor produced the data cube and with due reverence placed it in the reader. Grant lowered the lighting.
A hologram sprang into existence. It flickered and appeared grainy, but showed a mature reptile in a pale green pressure suit. It spoke.
"Pilot Nictir recording first log entry. Planetary orbit has been achieved. The prototype is performing well so far. Solar batteries will be charged during the next twenty orbits. I will then be heading out into the system. Initial success reported to base. Entry ends."
The hologram disappeared, then reappeared. A number of routine log entries ensued. Some were missing, which the Doctor remarked upon.
"That is not uncommon with material of this age," Acktar replied.
"Log entry twenty one. Had to change course to avoid a rogue planetoid, which is heading into the system. I've sent a report to base about it. Unfortunately, I have been caught in the gravity well of a nearby giant planet. I may be able to land on one of its satellites, with luck. Entry ends."
The hologram vanished. Thinking the recording was over, Grant was about to put the lights back on, when the hologram reappeared.
"Log entry twenty seven. This will be my final entry. The ship is stabilised, though the communicator still will not function, as it hasn't since landing. Life support is failing. I am diverting all remaining power to keeping the recorder functioning, so those that come after me will know what happened. I wish I could see my family once more. Goodbye."
There was a long silence after the hologram finally vanished. It was the Doctor who spoke first.
"I never knew your people made it into space."
Acktar nodded. "This was a prototype craft. Our space programme was in its infancy when the great disaster befell my people. The loss of the prototype was also a factor in our lack of development."
"I understand," the Doctor said, sympathy evident in his voice.
When they had left the meeting room, Grant asked about the 'great disaster' Acktar had mentioned.
"Acktar's people ruled the Earth in prehistory. They were an advanced species, well versed in the arts and sciences. Then they detected a planetoid in the outer solar system. Probably even the one that pushed Nictir off course. They calculated that it would pass close to the Earth, ripping away the atmosphere for a period of time. They built hibernation shelters, intending that they would be awakened when the atmosphere returned. However, the planetoid didn't rip away the atmosphere. It went into orbit and became the Moon."
"So what happened to them?" Grant wanted to know.
"They remained in hibernation. The return of the atmosphere was to be the trigger to wake them up, but it never left, so they stayed sleeping. It was millions of years before they walked the Earth again."
"Bad break," Grant commented.
The Doctor smiled sadly. "Not as bad as waking up to find that the monkeys have taken over the planet. They initially tried to wipe out mankind, before eventually making peace."
"I'm glad they didn't succeed."
"Me too," the Doctor said wistfully. "Me too."
***
The ceremony was simple. Acktar said a few words in his own language, then placed the urn containing the ground up remains of Nictir into the hole at the centre of the temporary dome. The Doctor, Grant, Professor Turner and Mendim Khan, the base commander, stood in respectful silence.
When he was finished, Acktar turned to them. His expression was difficult to read, but Grant thought he could detect sadness in the alien eyes.
"We'll erect a stone monument over this spot as soon as possible," Khan promised.
"Thank you," Acktar said. He bowed to them all and left the dome.
Khan and Professor Turner began discussing the best way to build a lasting memorial to Earth's first astronaut. The Doctor nudged Grant.
"Time we were going," he whispered.
***
"So, where to now?" Grant asked as they walked into the small dome containing the TARDIS.
"How would I know?" the Doctor said stiffly. "The TARDIS never goes where I want it to anyway."
Grant groaned. His words had come back to haunt him. "Sorry, Doctor."
The Doctor grinned at his crestfallen companion. "You're forgiven!" He opened the TARDIS door. "Shall we just see where the TARDIS takes us?"
"Why not? So long as it's nowhere dangerous!"
"No guarantees," the Doctor said as the TARDIS doors closed behind them and the space/time craft vanished noisily into the vortex.
