If - "The Brain Dead"

The third of Peter Adamson's articles on the impact some unmade Who might have had, if they had been made ...

The Brain Dead
by Brian Hayles

Prior to The Curse Of Peladon, Brian Hayles submitted a story outline for a third Ice Warrior story, yet again set on Earth, but this time in a contemporary setting.

Briefly, The Brain Dead involved an attempted invasion of Earth by the Martians using Earth's "comsats" (communication satellites) and the Warriors' own weapon, the' Z beam' - a super high concentration of energy which could freeze targets to absolute zero at pin-point accuracy. There was more - the Ice Warriors eventually make their base on Earth (probably Britain - don't get too excited) in a disused frozen foods factory. It's beginning to sound like the plot for Batman Forever already. UNIT are involved of course - this being a first contact scenario for the Brigadier re: the real inhabitants of Mars; though the Brig initially believes the culprits to be the very Earthly separatist group, The Isolationists. Things become even more sinister with the appearance of the victims of the Martians' meddling - the Brain Dead - zombified humans who makeup most of the invading vanguard. finally, the Doctor comes to everyone's rescue with the revelation that all the frozen assets of the Ice Warriors (the Brain Dead included) can be easily dispatched with an ultra high electrical current. Simple really.

If all of this sounds a bit confusing and complicated, tht'f1 bear in mind that this is the most complete story synopsis available, and to be sure it's not much of a story at face value . Presumably the reason behind its rejection, much to the improvement of the far superior Peladon story.

As for its inclusion in Season 9 however, The Brain Dead wouldn't have looked out of place alongside say, The Time Monster. The inclusion of UNIT would have been entirely feasible, as would the production-friendly Earth setting. There is even some topical elements with the Isolationists, an environmental pressure group foreshadowing Jo's future in The Green Death. It would have been interesting to see how Brian Hayles wrote for the UNIT regulars, and given that at that stage the previous Ice Warrior story had been The Seeds Of Death, the concept of aggressive Martians would not have seemed out of place (unlike their later slated appearance in Mission To Magnus). So wemight be able to conceive of an imaginary production of Brain Dead with the usual regulars Lennie Mayne directing, Ian Scoones supplying the satellite models, and perhaps even Alan Bennion would have reprised his lee Lord role as Kulvis, commander of the Martian force.

In the end it is probably for the better that The Brain Dead was overlooked, for its replacement with The Curse Of Peladon was a boon fur the Pertwee Era in two ways: first and foremost Peladon was the first adventure set in outer space for the ninth season (and only the second in Pertwee's tenure at that stage), and secondly it introduced the first instance of an established 'monster' race having a significant and interesting change in philosophy and becoming an ally of good (or, ' doing a Klingon' as it would churlishly be known in later years). The Brain Dead offered none of these novel elements unfortunately, and perhaps it is for the reason that it played too closely to the already dated Earthbound formula of season seven that it was scuppered.

- Peter Adamson

Fiction - The Scorpion's Tale

"The Scorpion's Tale"
by David Ronayne

Imagine a swirling mass of stars, spinning clusters and constellations circling endlessly around a glowing centre. Move closer and you can see countless numbers of worlds swinging through elliptical orbits around certain gifted suns. Closer ...

To one particular world, not particularly inspiring, but special because of it's history and placement in the grander schemes of other things. Below you the world slowly turns. The cusp of dawn moving over of it's dry central continents. Closer ...

On the banks of the Serengetti a little man sits cross-legged at the waters edge. By his side sits a dog eared book. It is unopened, it does not need to be. With his eyes closed the man can read all the words and see all the scenes just as clearly as he can visualise the ripples of sunlight on the water, the flights of countless butterflies and their descendants, and the tiny disturbance in the sand to his far right. Move closer ...

It is a scorpion. Imagine ... The scorpion scuttled across the river bank slightly more agitated than usual. (Which, as anyone who knows scorpions well readily tell you, is already a fair bit). Looking around he saw a giraffe drinking from the river, so he rushed over and made this frantic plea.

"Oh help me please, I need to get over to the other side of the river for my granny's birthday party, with tea and scones and lashings of ginger beer, and you art' so big and strong and tall and brave, and, oh help, oh bother ..."

But the giraffe had heard stories of scorpions and their dangerous stings (and even worse punctuation) and she ran away, ignoring his request, as fast as her long legs would carry her. (Giraffes were always prone to idle gossip.) The scorpion got more worried, worried and annoyed, until he saw a big elephant (and if you are a scorpion elephants are really big) walking along the river bank, so he rushed over and frantically made his plea.

"Oh please, oh help, I'm late for my granny's birthday party and there will be cake and fizzy drink and bowls of ice cream with cherries on top, and you are so big and strong, could you please help me get across?"

But elephants never forget, (although in all honesty, they don't really have that much to remember. They're not into foreign languages or high density particle physics, such things are best left to camels, cats, dolphins, and other creatures of a more academic nature. By contrast elephants lead a fairly sedate life.) and the elephant could remember tales of treachery, danger, and other scorpions, and the great beast sank back in fear before beating a hasty retreat back into the undergrowth.

The scorpion got more agitated, agitated and annoyed, until, out of the river a hippopotamus appeared, curious to see what the elephant was making all the fuss about. Frantically the scorpion waved it pincers in the air and shouted, "Oh please, oh help, I'm late for my granny's birthday party, and there is going to be cream buns and infeasible amounts of rice pudding, and you are so big and strong, please carry me across the river!"

Now hippos are very stoic creatures, not prone to take risks or putting themselves into danger, but they do have one weakness, a tiny vice that made the hippo stop and think. "Cream Buns?" It said slowly, in the paced and cautious tones that hippos, hostage negotiators, and elder statesmen adopt at times of indecision, rolling the word around in it's mouth, savouring it as if it were the real thing.

"Oh yes," said the scorpion, "and I'm sure if you helped me get there Granny would let you have some ... and some rice pudding too." He addcd for good measure.

The hippo thought for a moment before a look of cautious concern crossed it's face.

"But you're a scorpion," he said. "How do I know you won't sting me as we cross the river?"

The scorpion seemed shocked by the accusation, but pointed out that scorpions couldn't swim and that such an action would leave him to drown in the fast flowing river.

Then followed a brief discussion about mass/weight ratios (or lack thereof), of instectoid exoskeletons, and the sad state of the education system in not providing sufficient water bound physical education training. Finally the scorpion clinched the deal by pointing out some of the cream buns had a jam filling. So the hippo let the scorpion climb onto it's back and started to wade across the river. The scorpion, for it's part tried hard to resist temptation, holding it's breath, crossing its pincers and pinching itself, but to no avail. As they reached the deepest, swiftest part of the river the scorpion scuttled forward and plunged it's sting into the soft flabby part at the back of the hippos neck. The hippo screamed ...

The little man awoke with a start. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to dream so far. He shook himself off, picked up the book and the curiously shaped umbrella by his side, and rushed back to the blue box waiting quietly nearby, disturbed by what he had seen.

Imagine if you will, a small man in a linen suit sitting alone in an impossibly large control room, his head buried in his hands while in his minds eye the planets fall out of their perfect orbits and crash chaotically into each other. Seven were engulfed by huge fireballs as the suns exploded, as if squeezed by some unknown hand, while deep below the scorpion looked on sadly as the glazed expression on the hippo's face sank beneath the waters for the final time. The pained eyes, both accusing and imploring, stared up as if to simply ask "Why, now we are both doomed?"

"Because I am a scorpion," said the scorpion.

END

Colour Version of Cover to Forthcoming Issue 26

The Second Logo

The appearance of the second logo for the fanzine came less than a year after the fanzine itself had launched, prompted by a small drawing I had done for Matt Kamstra. I had been unhappy with the essentially cluttered and unreadable logo that had first been used, and used my then new clout as Assistant Editor to persuade Wade Campbell Matt to have it changed. Like the logo before it, the second logo was realized by Jamie Campbell on his home computer and turned out ultimately to be just as cluttered and unreadable as the logo it replaced.

Compilations

Coming Soon!

Once the final part of the TARDIS Tales article appears in RTP! (coming in issue 27 some time in 2008), we will be publishing a new compilation of all of Graham Muir's cartoons from TSV, Telos, Telos Unearthed, RTP! and other odds and ends. Which should be good since the last compilation was done back in May 1993, meaning that it will be the fifteenth anniversary of that compilation this year! This new compilation will hopefully be presented in the A4 format and feature not only every published comic of Graham's and the full TARDIS Tales articles, but possibly some new material as well. We'll see ...

Meanwhile, the above art is Graham's cover for issue 1 (October 1997).

Fanzines Reviewing Fanzines - TSV #54

TSV #54 (March 1998)

Ahhh, the bonus copy. A bloody good interview with David J. Howe is the highlight that immediately springs to mind. "Confessions of a Melaphile", while well written and interesting, failed to win me over to the 'Mel' side, entirely because of my own stubborness! "By Any Other Name" — I was NOT going to read this (over 25 pages) just to flesh out the review ‚ I'm sure it's very good, but I'm also sure my extremely short attention span wouldn't have handled it either! In my opinion "The Karkus" in this issue was nowhere near as good as the previous, but "Whispers" by far makes up for it. A bit too much story potential for its actual size, it possibly could have done with a few more pages and being split into two parts. As a final point, "Why Paul McGann is the Best Doctor" is inspiring, enough so to make me write my own version on a difference line from David Lawrence's, and Wade Campbell's "Eight Doctor's New Home". Come on down TSV #55 ...

- Matt Kamstra

Fiction - A Sense of Irony

"A Sense of Irony"
by David Ronayne

'A quick trip into the future' he said. It was certainly the oddest birthday Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge Stewart had ever had, except possibly for that time when he was twelve, and he thought he had seen a ghost. Thoughtfully he sucked on his drink — if you could call it that, and stared over to where a couple of tourists were sharing a joke, or at least the Swiss and Canadian girls were, while their male companion jotted something frantically down in his notebook. It was all most peculiar, although things had been very odd recently. Captain Yates and Jo were still flying a kite in the nearby square, Benton was wolfishly attacking his third 'meal', and the Doctor ... The Brigadier turned back to see his old friend smiling benignly at him. The Doctor had changed in the passed few months since he had regained control of his TARDIS. During his increasingly infrequent return visits his temper had mellowed considerably, and the Brigadier had found that during his absences he missed their arguments.

"So Brigadier, what do you think?"

"I think Benton's request to try the kebab place next door may have been a good idea." He replied dryly, thankful he had been able to discourage the idea of party hats after the Doctor had told the staff at the counter it was his birthday in perfect Mandarin.

"Now Alistair, I thought this would appeal to your sense of irony." He gestured dramatically around the room. "These people have managed to do what the CIA, UNIT, MIS have wanted to do for years, they even have a place like this in central Moscow."

The Brigadier looked confused, and the Timelord's face softened.

"Look, all I wanted to show you is that things change, and that everything you do, every threat we face, as thankless as our job seems, things will improve in the end."

The Brigadier looked suspiciously down at the Styrofoam box in front of him. "I don't know about improve Doctor, at the moment I'd rather be facing an Auton or a Cyberman. Are you sure we can have a kebab?" After the briefest of pauses they both laughed.

"Happy Birthday Brigadier."

"Thank You Doctor."

McDonalds, Beijing, 30 April 1996

END.