Into The Volcano

"Be Mindful of The LIVING Force, my young padawan."

"This guy's walking down the street when he falls in a hole. The walls are so steep he can't get out.

A doctor passes by and the guy shouts up, 'Hey you. Can you help me out?' The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on.

Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, 'Father, I'm down in this hole can you help me out?' The priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole and moves on.

Then a friend walks by, 'Hey, Joe, it's me can you help me out?' 

And the friend jumps in the hole. 

Our guy says,

"Are you stupid!? Now we're both down here.' 

The friend says,

'Yeah, but I've been down here before and I know the way out.'"

Nyota Uhura: 

At that volcano, you didn't give a thought to Us. 

What it would do to me if you died, Spock. 

You didn't feel anything. 

You didn't care. 

And I'm not the only one who's upset with you. 

The Captain is, too. 

James T. Kirk: 

No, no, no. 

Don't drag me into this. 

She is right, though.

Spock: 

Your suggestion that I do not care about dying is incorrect. 

A sentient being's optimal chance at maximizing their utility is a long and prosperous life. 

Nyota Uhura: 

Great. 

James T. Kirk: 

Not exactly a love song, Spock. 

Spock: 

You misunderstand. 

It is true I chose not to feel anything upon realizing my own life was ending. 

As Admiral Pike was dying, I joined with his consciousness and experienced what he felt at the moment of his passing. 

Anger. Confusion. 

Loneliness. Fear. 

I had experiences those feelings before, multiplied exponentially on the day my planet was destroyed. 

Such a feeling is something I choose never to experience again. 

Nyota, you mistake my choice not to feel as a reflection of my not caring. 

Well, I assure you, the truth is precisely the opposite.

James T. Kirk: 

I'm scared, Spock... help me not to be... how do you choose not to feel? 

Spock: 

I do not know. 

Right now, I am failing. 

James T. Kirk: 

I wanted you to know why I couldn't let you die... why I went back for you... 

Spock: 

Because you are my friend.

"By far the thing which I like most about 'Time' is that it's not real -

The Past exists only in Memories, whist The Future of infinite possibilities, exists only in our Imagination.

Truth is Truth - Though never so bold. And Time cannot make false That-Which-Was-Once-True

If our watches were truly accurate, the only thing that they would ever say, is 

"NOW"

It's Not About YOU.

So, this guy's walking around, hopping from rock to rock, being carried along the various molten lava streams, deep inside the crater of an active volcano, when he falls sees his chance to leap across onto a rocky outcrop that leads to a steep path up the walls of the crater and ultimately to escape and safety. 

Only, he badly misjudged his leap and despite achieving a successful touchdown on the rocky outcrop, he does so only  after brutally suffering the complete loss and amputation of both of his legs below the knee, as well as the complete removal of his one, remaining "good" arm, burned away to a cinder by  boiling magma splash complications. And the walls are so steep and high he can't get out -Certainly not without a full team of Sherpas from Nepal,a broad selection in the choice of maps, and an Indian Spirit-Guide.

A male nurse/natural remedies herbalist and wholesale brand rep passes by and the guy shouts up, "Hey you. Can you help me out?" The doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole, recommends a short supple,entry course of therapeutic gastrointestinal purging, staring with series of back-to-back warm hot salt water enemas for openers, waits for the patients final personal cheque transaction to clear, and moves on.

Then a priest comes along and the guy shouts up, 'Father, I'm down in this hole can you help me out?' The priest writes out a prayer for mercy and intercession, combined with a more-than ordinarily generous and self-starting series of  innvocations intended to provide the opening volley of ancient and powerful counter-curses as a prelude to a full rite of exorcism and spiritual cleansing and self healing workshop exercises, sanctifies entones in Latin the various,  different benedictions of his blessing, concludes the completed operation of gestures, chants and waves of every kind down into the hole, genuflects, and continues on by resuming his journey, as originally intended.

He's actually wreathed in ravenous tongues of burning flame at this stage, actually ON FIRE, as his mutilated body gradually slips further and further down the steep, sloping sides of the vast  molten firepit, when his best friend  walks by, 

'Hey, Master Obi-Wan, it's me, your Brother Jedi and studiously maverick  Padawan learner apprentice - it's perhaps possible I may have made some humongously bad and stupid choices because I was afraid for the future and welfare of my family and felt this was the only way  I could go to act, if I was to guarantee their safety and protect our future happiness together - now though, I'm a quadruple amputee, trapped inside an active volcano, being slowly burnt - can you help me out?"

And his Old Friend jumps straight into the maw of the eruption crater hole, and lands only a few yards lower down the shale slope of the hell-hole slag pit and immediately begins his own process of physical combustion, smouldering initially only to begin with and for the first few searing, scorching seconds, at least up until the point where the liquification and just thereafter, the flash-ignition  point specific for the subcutaneous bodily fats is achieved, after which, The Long Lost Friend to Our guy just goes up like a Roman candle doused in gasoline by that point. 

Our guy screams, 

'Are you stupid? Now we're both trapped inside this volcano, and likewise, we are both currently on fire." 

His Long-Lost Friend says, 'Yeah, but someone kicked me down here before, and I still know the way out.'"

It's about redirecting...

....evading.

And actually caring about the welfare of your opponent...

...so you have to care about yourself.

You have to believe your life is precious, that ALL Life is precious...

...you have to redirect those thoughts, the history that tells you otherwise.

What we've done, we've done.

We evade it by moving forward with a code to NEVER do it again.

To make up for it.

...to still accept what we were.

To accept 
EVERYONE...

...To protect 
EVERYONE.

And in doing that, protect yourself...

...to create Peace.

"Only a Master of Evil, D'aath...!!"

"Hey, you know what - 
Screw You, White-Hat!!

You wanna know something "Evil" - Leaving your BEST FRIEND, who is in PAIN, has just made a series of HORRIBLE (to your thinking) mistakes, to DIE, ALONE, inside a FREAKIN' VOLCANO, on FIRE!!!

And lecturing him on evil and betrayal, watching him burn whilst WEARING A BLANKET.!!

You don't get to Judge me."

I'm entitled to my Anger.

WESLEY

I thought Delothrian's Arrow was used to protect "good" magicks.

WILLOW

It is.

WESLEY

So, how can you use it to break the jar? 

The Muo-Ping is a sacred object. It's holy.

WILLOW

It's glass, therefore crunchable. 

The sacred's what's inside. 

"All life a container..."

WESLEY

"...For the heart of all life." 

You've studied the Daharim.

WILLOW

It had to be something specific. There's lots of jars in the world—can't shatter them all. 

I mean, you could, but good things come in jars - 

Peanut butter, jelly, those two-headed fetal pigs at the natural history museum. 

(Wes doesn't respond) 

Come on, everybody loves fetal pigs.

WESLEY

(leans forward) 

Sorry. I think my sense of humor's trapped in a jar somewhere.

WILLOW

Does seem like you've given in to The Grumpy side of The Force.

WESLEY

A lot's happened. Not just Angelus. 

I've been—I've changed. 

I've seen a Darkness in myself. 

I'm not sure you'd even begin to understand—

WILLOW

I flayed a guy alive and tried to destroy The World.

WESLEY

Oh. So...

 (stands, doesn't make eye-contact)

WILLOW

Darkness. Been there.

WESLEY

Yeah. 

Well, I never flayed... (seems sickened) 

I had a woman chained in a closet.

WILLOW

Hey.

WESLEY

That doesn't compare.

WILLOW

No, Dark. 

That's Dark. 

You've been to a place.

Otherstide Eve : Perfectly Innocent Fun & Games - 'Til Somebody Loses anEye

D

 In one movement, they turned their backs.

'Goodbye, Lungbarrovians,' he called. 'Don't worry. I don't ask for your forgiveness. Time runs in circles. I have other families!'

He looked away across the slope to his companions. Close by, the Director of Allegiance was standing with several of his agents.

'If I keep my job,' Romana said, 'I'll have Lord Ferain suspended on a charge of misdirection of power. I'm going to have the Agency doors thrown open to Public Register Video for a full investigation.'

'What it is to have power,' said the Doctor.

'You'd know.' She grabbed his arm and tried to steer him away as Ferain started towards them.

The elderly man caught up with the Doctor. 'Has she told you why she summoned you yet?'

Romana scowled. 'Go away, Ferain.'

'Has she told you about the mission she's arranged?'

'I changed my mind,'Romana said. 'The Doctor's not involved.'

'What mission?'said the Doctor.

'To Skaro,'Ferain said.

'Cairo?'

'No, Skaro.'

The Doctor shook his head. 'Is this some new Skaro? Or the one that I destroyed with the Hand of Omega?'

Romana flailed her arms. 'I said it doesn't matter!'

Leela and Chris and Dorothée were drawn in by the sound of the argument.

Ferain stood smugly back while the Doctor and Romana argued.



'No, Doctor. I'll get someone else to go.'

'If it's the Master's remains, then I should be the one to fetch them.'
'It's too dangerous!'

'What could be worse than facing my miserable Cousins! Filling in forms with Lethbridge-Stewart? Lunch with the terrible Zodin. . .?'
 
Ferain said, 'But it's true. The Matrix predicts a ninety-six percent chance of fatal injury.'
 
The Doctor closed his eyes and said quietly, 'Then that leaves me with a clear four per cent margin.'

'Don't be so Otheringly flippant!'snapped Romana.

The Doctor laughed. 'You should see yourselves. The President and the CIA locked in your eternal skirmishes. One side always tilting at the other.'

'That's how the balance of order is maintained,' said Romana.

The Director of Allegiance smiled grimly. 'It has been that way on Gallifrey ever since the Intuitive Revelation.'

'But you must be so bored,'said the Doctor. 'Buried in a state of perpetual Harmony, no wonder you play these games.'

'And what will you teach us with your manifold wisdom?'said Ferain. 'Whoever you are or were?'
 
The Doctor met the old man's eye. The wind stilled.

'What do you want, Ferain? What do you want me to be? Shall I reveal my blazing power? Might that not fry you to a crisp? Shall I sweep away evil and chaos? Reorder the stars in their courses? 
Banish burnt toast forever?'
 
He paused.

'Well, I won't. I wouldn't if I could. Who do you think I am?' He thumbed his chest. 'I'm me. The Doctor. What I have been, someone might have imagined. What I will be, how can I tell? I'm not immortal. I shall go to this Skaro, collect the Master's remains and bring them back to President Romanadvoratrelundar.'

'With such backing,' said Ferain, 'how can she fail?'
 
The Doctor's eyes flashed. 'Be quiet, my lord. And remember your place!'
 
The birds had stopped singing.

Ferain was silent.

Romana cleared her throat. 'Please be careful.'

The Doctor eyed her sternly. 'The Daleks. The Master. Romana, who have you been talking to?'

***

They stood in a line beside the TARDIS. 

'Please,' the Doctor said,'I didn't ask to be seen off.'
 
'Tough,' said Dorothée. 'You'd better have these.' She fished her last battered box of teabags out of her pocket. He took them and hugged her tight.

He looked fondly at Leela for a long time, peering into her eyes as if he recognized something there.

'This love thing,' he mused. 'Interesting. A father from Gallifrey and a mother of Earth stock. That's an unusual pedigree.'
 
She pushed back her hair and said awkwardly, 'I don't have  anything for you, Doctor.'

'Just call him after me.'
 
She looked startled and then nodded.

'Who exactly is the terrible Zodin?' butted in Chris. 'Some sort of Galactic megalomaniac emperor?'
 
The Doctor's eyes went misty. 'Zodin was a celebrated sword-swallower at the Grand Festival of Zymymys Midamor. She had an amazing trick with a scimitar.'
 
Chris grabbed the Doctor, lifting him off his feet in a monstrous bear hug.

'Roz bet me that I'd never dare do this,' he said. Eventually he put the Doctor down again and picked up his hat for him.

'Give my love to Bernice,' said the Doctor, squeezing Chris's hand.

'And ask her if she wants to lecture at the Academy here,' said Romana.

She turned to the Doctor.

'I know. I'll be careful,' he said.

'I want you to have this.' She slipped a metallic object into his hand. 'It's my sonic screwdriver.'
 
He smiled. 'Thank you, Madam President. I shall see you soon. Back at the Capitol.' He walked to the TARDIS, a small figure clutching his presents. He turned his key and went inside.
 
One by one they moved away.
 
'Will he come back?' said Leela.'

'Dorothee!' The Doctor's head re-emerged from the door. 'I just remembered. I haven't been Merlin yet!'

He vanished and the door closed.

'What?' chorused the others, as Dorothée began to laugh.

The light on the TARDIS flashed like a bright idea.

A flock of startled birds rose from the trees as the TARDIS grated out of existence.

Then they were alone on the sunny mountainside.

D'aath Veda

"Only a Master of Evil, D'aath...!!"

"Hey, you know what - Screw You, White-Hat!!

You wanna know something "Evil" - Leaving your BEST FRIEND, who is in PAIN, has just made a series of HORRIBLE (to your thinking) mistakes, to DIE, ALONE, inside a FREAKIN' VOLCANO, on FIRE!!!

And lecturing him on evil and betrayal, watching him burn whilst WEARING A BLANKET.!!

You don't get to Judge me."

“...the echo of the music went out into the Void, and it was not void.” 

The Silmarillion, ‘Ainulindalë’

"Some have said that in ages long before She descended from The Darkness that lies about Arda […] in The Beginning She was one of those that He corrupted to His Service. But she had disowned Her Master."

– The Silmarillion, 

‘Of the Darkening of Valinor’ 

Chapter 8

In The Beginning was The Word, 

and The Word was with God, 

and The Word was God. 

The same was in The Beginning with God. 

All things were made by Him; 

and without Him was not any thing made that was made. 

In Him was Life; 

and The Life was The Light of Men. 

And The Light shineth in Darkness; 

and The Darkness comprehended it not.

"Then the Unlight of Ungoliant rose up even to the roots of the trees, and Melkor sprang upon the mound; and with his black spear he smote each Tree to its core, wounded them deep, and their sap poured forth as it were their blood, and was spilled upon the ground. 

But Ungoliant sucked it up, and going then from Tree to Tree she set her black beak to their wounds, till they were drained; and the poison of Death that was in her went into their tissues and withered them, root, branch, and leaf; and they died.

And still she thirsted, and going to the Wells of Varda she drank them dry; but Ungoliant belched forth black vapours as she drank, and swelled to a shape so vast and hideous that Melkor was afraid."

J.R.R. Tolkien

– The Silmarillion, 

‘Of the Darkening of Valinor’ 

Chapter 8

"But still, she was there, who was there before Sauron, and before the first stone of Barad-dûr; and she served none but herself, drinking the blood of Elves and Men, bloated and grown fat with endless brooding on her feasts, weaving webs of shadow; for all living things were her food, and her vomit darkness." 

—The Two Towers

Only a Master of Evil, Darth...

Clash of Lightsabres

In retrospect, looking back from where we are are currently, that final exchange of words between the two former friends and brothers-in-the-spirit, seems actually kinda odd, meeting one another again after decades of estrangement following the rupturing of their friendship and journey along very differing paths - why does The Hermit address his as Da'ath, like as if that's actually his NAME, rather than  an honorific title conferred upon initiates to the Sith art, along with their secret magickal name, bestowed upon each new initiate upon the commencement of his apprenticeship by his Master.

Why would he address him as "Darth", when everyone else addresses him as "Vader", or "My Lord", especially given that he not only knows his True, Given Name, but also his true CHOSEN Name, conferred upon him by His initiating Master Tutor in the Black Arts of Sith Sorcery and Dark Side Magicks, in a supposedly intended-to-be completely secret and occult 30 second P-2 style ceremony, never before witnessed by any amongst the profane, non-Sith outsiders, anywhere in the galaxy in nearly a thousand years...

But seriously, NO-ONE else addresses him or refers to him  (or any of the other Sith Lords) as simply "Darth", at any other point, anywhere in the saga - and only Yoda and Obi Wan ever refer to him in his absence as "Darth Vader", when talking with Luke concerning his future, destiny, and his ultimate test of skill and fate.

Nobody else in the galaxy, other than his master is meant to know his Secret Sith name and title, and by naming his order of rank aloud, The Hermit is able to gain just enough power over Vader during their fleeting excuse for a final final duel as to seize the initiative, momentarily knock Vader off balance just sufficient to gain the  upper hand over him, surrender his flesh of matter and achieve a decisive non- physical victory over his former pupil turned Nemesis and Shadow-self. 

The Da'ath is the Dweller on the Threshold of the gateway between the worlds, between ALL Worlds, that lies at the boundary where Life and Death meet to come face to face with their own dark refection of one another, and all that lies beyond both Death and Life, Beyond Good and Evil, out in the higher (and lower) plains of otherwise emanation, and the Nine other  Realms connecting together out there in the beyond, elsewhen within the branches of The Tree.

I have been using Tolkien as well as Twin Peaks, David Lynch movies generally, Kubrick, the Tarot and Astrotheology lately as a structure and cosmological schema to relate to a lot of these ideas and notions on a conceptual and operational level for this kind of deep study work on the really heavy duty shit like the Da'ath, and in respect of that, I think you may find the Sillmarillion especially useful and helpful to get a proper handle on this rather daunting thing (which is deliberately occluded and typically hidden away and not even shown to neophytes, due to its raw potency and potential to unleash complete mayhem on your life if you are incautious or poorly prepared to take on such a challenging and taxing spiritual test of your True Will - as Deputy Hawk warns in Twin Peaks, if you attempt to pass through the Black Lodge of your own inner Shadow-Self and think you can try to come face to face with The Dweller on The Threshold armed with only imperfect courage, then it will not only see right through you, it will utterly annihilate your soul. 

To be able to ask, 
"How's Annie?"

But back to Tolkien, in studying the mythos of the Silmarillion, I immediately intuited and recognised when studying it for the first time what I had previously suspected for quiet a while before, albeit subconsciously, from viewing and reading his later (cosmologically- speaking), far more accessible works as a firmly asseted subtext in both The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings - that for Tolkien, he was able to use in his writing, the biology, lifecycle and habits of Giant Spiders as his way relating to and copy big his expressions and manifestations of Da'-ath intruding into our, limited 3-Dimenional  realm of matter and certain mundane varieties of energies, protecting down onto our perceptual plane from a higher dimensionality, making themselves noticed  and conspicuously present and just plain THERE to our limited sensory REALITY construct via monstrous, vivid  emanations that take on the full shape, aspect, behaviour and form of Giant Spiders (of various different real-world scales of size, menace and monstrousity)


There is a very clearly related and intenntionally done and alarming  dramatic episode that occurrs around 1/3 of the way into the main narratuve, which Tolkien goes out of his way for a third time to make it clear to the reader, this time in plain and unambiguous terms that the Spiders are ABE NOT an original or native element of either Old White-Bearded Father God's design and plan for creation, OR that of Satan, starting  out simply by just fantasising and imagining how HE might have gone about laying out the universe, in a was that was clearly  just simply  more than accessible and versatile in terms of applying different techniques for figuring out exactly how to live in it, understand it and relate to how all of so many disparate aspects of it might add meaning, texture and flavours to your soul, in various ways that were ideally simple, Labour-saving and made sense without excessive forays into the abstract or pretentious. [Kinda like that last part, huh?]

But yeah, the first Mamma Spider-Demon  is explicitly identified by Tolkien as being a non-created sentience composed of Dark Matter and yawning, gaping hunger to devour ANYTHING that is of either matter, or spirit, all lights and forms of energy, a Dark Destructor beastial Demon Goddess originating from the area which exists OUTSIDE, and beyond the created universe of God and its realms of  Titans, Giants , Olympians, Heroes, Fair Folk, Men and Halflings.

Relatively early on in the cosmology of Middle Earth, Tolkein's Satan, Melkor, also called Mogroth, Sauron's original mentor, master and predecessor, the FIRST Dark Lord of matter to walk and dwell in or upon Middle Earth (I.e., here, our 3-D material reality), had just been bound and punished for his wicked behaviour by his peers, The Valar (which basically correspond exactly to the 200 Fallen Angels of the Book of Enoch, the Chiefs of Tens bound to material existence by swearing together mutual curse or an oath that locked them into the realm of materiality), and Mogroth was able to effect his escape from their fortress stronghold on Middle Earth - and while he is sneaking around at the base of the mountain range upon which it was built, and swearing  to return and wreak a terrible vengeance upon his fellow archons for binding and imprisoning him in chains for the equivalent of three or four ages of The Earth - there, in a dark, dank corner, he discovers and reveals himself to the great spider Ungoliant (Da'ath, by my reckoning).

And she has the effect of striking Mogroth (Satan) speechless and dumb in mortal terror and horror to behold her and her ceaseless aching, gluttony to devour EVERYTHING, because Mogroth instantly realise and recognises in the embodiment and incarnation of Ungoliant that :

a) Being familiar with every aspect of creation (having been present there in person along with the other Valar at the moment of creation, and witnessed the making of the entire cosmos he knows that God didn't have a hand in creating Da'ath, born of The Darkness outside creation, beyond the cosmos.

b) Satan knows HE certainly didn't create the Da'ath, and 

c) Aside from just promising her riches and spoils of vast bounties in matter to gorge on and just pointing Her in the opposite direction, towards his enemies and Nemesises, he is completely incapable of controlling or even restraining her and her ceaseless need to devour and consume EVERYTHING that is of matter, including him and ultimately as a thing of the purest darkness, she would resort to endlessly consuming even herself. She can't be reasoned with, quietened or calmed, merely held back by promises of still greater feasts and rich people eating in return for forming an alliance born of mutual greed and appetites.

Impulse Control

13 INT. HALLWAY AT WOLFRAM & HART - DAY
Spike steps back voluntarily from biting Cordelia's neck, but moments later, he's charged by Angel, who knocks him to the ground. Angel punches Spike in the face, and Spike responds with a kick to Angel's chest. 

SPIKE
(puts Angel in a headlock)
You took me on and lost, remember, old man? 
ANGEL
Touch Cordelia again...
(breaks free of Spike's grip, lifts Spike into the air and throws Spike to the ground)
get ready for our very last rematch. 
SPIKE
(getting to his feet)
She's evil, you gourmless tit. 
CORDELIA
(holding her neck, indignant)
Excuse me? Who bit whom? 
ANGEL
Did you call me a tit? 
CORDELIA
I thought he had a soul. 
SPIKE
(points at Cordelia)
(to Angel) I thought she didn't. 
CORDELIA
I do. 
SPIKE
So do I. 
CORDELIA
Well, clearly, mine's better. 
SPIKE
(steps toward Cordelia)
Look— 
ANGEL
(grabs Spike by the lapels and throws his back into the wall)
I see fangs, I'm gonna play dentist. 
CORDELIA
And you called this guy the big hero? 
SPIKE
(to Angel) You called me a hero? 
ANGEL
I didn't know you were eating people. 
SPIKE
(headbutts Angel, sending them apart, both reeling and holding their foreheads in pain)
Ow! God. It was a taste test, you git. I needed to know if what my source said is true.
(to Cordelia) And, actually, well, you don't taste evil. Demons are more...astringent with a sort of oakie, really—

Leave The Girl. It’s The Man I want.

Bernice ran into Mel in the corridor and saw that she had been crying. She stepped in front of her and spoke before Mel could.

‘Look, I’m sorry I was funny with you. It’s just that you get so used to the Doctor’s ways — it’s hard to remember how strange they once seemed.’

Mel shrugged. ‘So he’s talked you round to his way of thinking. You’re still guilty by association.’

‘It’s not that simple.’

‘Oh, it never is!’

‘No,’ said Benny firmly, ‘it’s not. He’s doing the right thing on Detrios, I can see that.”

“What about your Seven Planets?’

Benny nodded morosely. ‘I try not to think about it. And I gave him hell at the time, believe me. He’s made things easier since — and he does do good, he’s risked his life on countless occasions. I can’t doubt that he does what he thinks is right.”

“And you?’

‘I have to trust in him.’

Mel nodded. Bernice could see from her body language that she wasn’t completely consoled. But she did appreciate that Benny was human. She smiled in what she hoped was a reassuring way. 

‘Tell me one thing.’ 

Mel looked willing enough. 

‘As I said, the Doctor keeps risking his life. 

Since I’ve known him, he’s been shot through the heart, had his mind ripped open by mechanical insects . . . 

I thought his head had been lopped off once.’

‘Nasty,’ agreed Mel.

‘I’ve come to think of him as invulnerable. Yet you saw him die — one of him, at least. How did it happen?’

Mel pursed her lips. ‘I didn’t actually see it. I was unconscious at the time. But I think . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘Well, 

He fell over and banged his head on the TARDIS console.

Benny laughed until her sides ached.

“ Mel helped the Doctor to his feet.

She was sure he was different, certainly less heavy. Indeed, he seemed small in stature, his hair was lank, and his pallor greying.

‘You look like death,’ she said helpfully.

‘Thank you for those kind words of encouragement. I’ve just stopped the end of creation, and all you can do is tell me I don’t look so good.’

Mel laughed and they slowly, very slowly in fact, bearing in mind how tired and drawn the Doctor was, crawled out of the destroyed inverted cone, out of the chamber itself and into the Library.

‘Where now?’ Mel asked once they were in the corridor.

‘I need a bit of a sleep. Let’s get to the TARDIS and away from here.’

‘But Rummas?’

‘Can look after things here. The Lamprey is gone. I can feel it in my bones.’ He squeezed his arm and winced. ‘Painfully so, in fact.’

Mel looked around, then closed her eyes, trying to bring up in her mind a plan of the Library. Then she smiled, opened her eyes and pointed towards a corridor to the left. 

“TARDIS. 7 minutes that way.’

The Doctor let Mel take his weight. ‘7 minutes, eh? What would I do without you?’

‘What would the universe do without you?’ she countered.

‘Let’s hope... let’s hope we don’t find out..’

The TARDIS control room had never seemed so bright, so warm. So inviting.

Mel was all but dragging the Doctor inside as she looked around her. As if by magic, part of the far wall opened up and a long bed emerged – perhaps the TARDIS could tell its pilot was desperately ill, Mel decided.

The Doctor waved a hand almost irritably towards the bed and it was absorbed by the wall once again. ‘I’m fine, Mel.’ He glanced up to the ceiling as Mel closed the doors behind them.

‘No, really, I am.’ He then smiled at Mel. ‘We didn’t do too badly, did we?’

‘We?’ laughed Mel. ‘“We” did nothing. You, on the other hand, just saved the multiverse. Literally for once.’

‘For once? Mel, we save the multiverse once a week! Don’t we?”

“Not usually, no. You’re usually satisfied with a race, or a planet. A galaxy at the most.’ She could tell he was masking his pain behind his bonhomie, of course.

‘But seriously, Doctor, I think you need to rest. The Lamprey really took it out of you. Again, literally!’

The Doctor took a deep breath and stood proudly by his precious TARDIS console. ‘Nonsense, Mel, what harm could possibly befall one such as I?’

At which point he began coughing and spluttering. Mel ran to his side instantly, trying to pat him on the back. Being considerably shorter than he, this merely resulted in a few ineffectual thumps to a couple of middle vertebrae. He gently eased her hand back. ‘You know, I think some rest might be in order after all.’

‘Doctor’s orders?’ suggested Mel cheekily.

He nodded and smiled back at her.

And Mel’s heart went cold.

She’d been travelling with him long enough to be able to read the Doctor well by now. This avuncular man who she trusted with her life. A man whose moods and quirks she could pretty much predict these days. A Time Lord – so much power contained in such a frail body, despite its appearance of... well, pretty solidness anyway.

But who really knew what made Time Lords tick? Even these days, Mel was aware that she couldn’t entirely be sure of how well the Doctor might be.

‘Having witnessed that final struggle as the Lamprey was extinguished, she was forced to question whether the Doctor should have accepted that constant absorption of energy and light. Could his form really have just taken that punishment and then shrugged it off as easily as he made out?

‘Doctor, listen to me. Rummas warned you what it might take to stop it.’

The Doctor was leaning on the TARDIS console, gripping it tightly enough that his knuckles were white with the strain.

‘So what? Okay, I might not be able to regenerate twelve times. Eleven, ten maybe. Who cares?’

‘You should.’

‘Why? Look at the scanner Mel, look at that. All those stars and worlds and races and civilisations. They could all have gone the way of poor Professor Tungard if I’d not stopped it. As sacrifices go, I could afford it and I truly believe it was worth it.’

Mel was at his side. She placed a hand on his and drew it away quickly.

‘Doctor, you’re ice cold. I mean, absolutely frozen.

“Really? Can’t feel it myself.’ His gaze was still on the scanner.

‘Mel, can you press that blue switch please.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I asked nicely?’

Mel did as she was told and instantly the TARDIS roared into life, the central column rising and falling as they left Carsus for what she hoped would be the last time.

A few seconds later, it stopped and the scanner just showed space again. Mel frowned but the Doctor smiled, albeit weakly.

‘Hover mode. I just want to look one last time at the local cosmos.

“One... last... what d’you mean, one last time?’

The Doctor finally pried his hands away from the console, trying to work the fingers but to no avail. He stared straight at Mel and she suddenly realised she was facing not a man in his mid-forties as he normally appeared, but a tired, drained man, who just this once she could believe was 900-plus years. His blue eyes were grey, the crow’s feet more pronounced and his hair had a few grey roots and curls, especially at the temples.

‘We did good, Mel. I’m honoured to have had you at my side one last time.’

And he fell to the floor with a loud crump.

“Mel was at his side in a second, resting his head on her lap, massaging his temples.’C’mon Doctor, no time to be sleeping.’

She looked up at the scanner.

All those stars, still twinkling.

All the planets still revolving.

All the life that owed its continued existence to a man, a wonderful, brave man it had never known.

Might never know.

She realised she was crying and a tear dropped onto the Doctor’s face. His skin was very grey now. His eyes flickered open and he smiled tightly.

“Don’t cry Mel. It was my time. Well, maybe not, but it was my time to give. To donate. I’ve had a good innings you know, seen and done a lot. Can’t complain this time. Don’t feel cheated.’

Mel couldn’t understand what he was saying. He couldn’t be...

couldn’t be dying.

Had letting his chronon energy be absorbed to that degree really destroyed him. Finally?

‘No...’ she whispered. It’s not fair!’

‘Yes. Yes it is...’ she heard him say, but the words seemed to be in her head rather than coming from his closed mouth.

She suddenly found herself remembering their initial meeting in Brighton. An initial enmity that had given way to respect, admiration and finally a great enough affection that she had given it all up to join him aboard the TARDIS. To travel the universe.

The TARDIS lights seemed to have dimmed a fraction, as if it... as if she knew. Understood.

Mel wished she did.

Then the TARDIS lurched violently, once, twice, three times.

The Doctor was rocked out of her hands and he curled up, facing the bottom of the console.

‘Local... tractor beam...’ he said aloud this time, trying to raise his hand. Trying to reach up, grab the console and haul himself upright.

Mel watched for a second, convinced that he’d succeed. Of course he would, if they were under some sort of attack, the Doctor would leap into action and save the day again. He had to.

‘Doctor!’ she whispered as, instead, his arm drooped and he was still once more.

His skin was the colour of granite now and Mel was sure it was blurring slightly.

Had to be her own tears, distorting her vision.

The force of the tractor beams –another one rocked the TARDIS again – had sent her a couple of feet away from the Doctor and the floor seemed to be at a severe angle.

She tried to crawl towards him, but another blow, then another and Mel suddenly wondered if this was what it felt like to be a deep-sea diver, going down too rapidly. Getting the bends. She felt, somehow, that the TARDIS was indeed going down, being dragged through space, like a rollercoaster car in freefall.

And then it was all over. The TARDIS landed with an enormous juddering thump, but in her ears, in her mind, it seemed as if the noise was still going on and she knew then, that she had failed the Doctor.

He was dying in front of her eyes and her own brain was closing down, trying to block off the effects of the crash-landing, or whatever it was, by making her sleep.

She would fight unconsciousness. She’d been knocked out before, she knew that she could catch it, stop it...

She knew she could...

She knew...

No... no it wasn’t fair...

Wait!

The TARDIS door was opening. How? No one had operated the door controls. They must have been forced.

Mel could barely keep her eyes open, the darkness that wanted to consume her was winning, and she was losing the battle.

Let it go, she heard her inner voice say. Sleep.

With a final effort, Mel rolled onto her back, facing the doorway.

As unconsciousness took a hold, she was sure there were people there.

They moved towards her and as she finally succumbed to complete sensory deprivation, she heard a strident female voice barking out an order.

‘Leave The Girl. It’s The Man I want.'

Excerpt From Spiral Scratch, by Gary Russell

Mogwai = The White Man

"John [of Patmos] was Yacub. John was out there getting ready to make a new race, he said, for the word of the Lord" 

- Malcolm X

"Baraka turns the Nation's myth into a reinterpretation of the Faust story and a simultaneous meditation on the role and function of art. As with Faust, Jacoub's individualism and egotism are his undoing, but his failings also signal the destruction of a community. Baraka's version of the story also draws on the Frankenstein tale; he conflates the six hundred years of Elijah Muhammad's “history” into a single, terrible moment of the creation of a monster."

"They said that the huge stone heads attested to the fact that the Yakubites evolved into a race of scientific geniuses with large heads (as depicted in the sculptures) and small bodies. This legend of Yakub — a bigheaded scientist — finds its way into the mythology of the Nation of Islam, indicating that the founders of the NOI, W. D. Farrad and Elijah Muhammad, were influenced by the Moorish Science Temple, and were possibly even members."

"According to the novel based on the first film, the mogwai were created on an extraterrestrial planet by a placid scientist named Mogturmen, as the ultimate organism, docile, loveable little powder puffs, intended to promote peace and good will throughout the galaxy as ambassadors for harmony. The mogwai were created to be able to survive in almost every environment and also to reproduce very easily. The mogwai were then sent out to three planets, Klm-6 in the Porasti Range, Clinpf-A of the Beehive Pollux, and the third planet of MinorSun#67672, The Earth. Due to several of Mogturmen's miscalculation, though, only one in 10,000 Mogwai turned out good and affectionate. Most others turned out more malicious and evil. They burned into the legends and folklore of our ancestors, as the pixies and goblins, of fables goneby. 

The Mogwais are a race of small, furry, rodent-like creatures, koala-like creatures and sometimes primate-like creatures with big ears and three stubby fingers and toes. Their fur color usually is the color of the mogwai that it spawns from. For example, in the first movie, when Gizmo got wet, the Mogwai are brown and white, but there is a chance that they can have other fur colors as well, such as black or even orange. Sometimes they even have certain peculiar features, like small mohawks or different shaped ears. It's usually seen that the leader of the Mogwai is the one with the mohawk. The leader has few more features than the others, for instance, not only do they possess a mohawk for a hairstyle, but they are also the only ones with fangs and are by far the smartest of the group. It was also heard in the commentary of the first film that they could roll into balls, although it's never seen. If watched closely you can see if you push a Mogwai too far it will seek its revenge, for example, Gizmo and Stripe, Earl and Roy, and Gizmo and Mohawk.