At The Strike of Twelve (Part II)…

The figure looked down on the Doctor, the size of the armor being most of the reason why. It was the armor of the Ice Warriors of Mars. The Doctor had last seen one on a soviet submarine, and it had gotten there only because it was frozen in a giant ice block. So, needless to say, a human head, as well as, the Doctor hoped, a human body inside the armor of an ice warrior was very curious indeed. “Oi! What are you doing in there!” demanded the Doctor, the shock of seeing the armor subsiding and changing swiftly into annoyance. The Doctor loved humans, he found them quite amusing, but every so often there would be one, or a group, of humans that made him very cross. The human face looked down, confused, but nonetheless spat back, “I’m preparing for the rebellion tonight, you dirty red coat! What are you, a spy dressed as a clown?” The Doctor took great offense to this, already disliking what he was wearing, and a rebel was insulting it? That’s it, next time, change directly after regenerating, why do I always forget that! “I am not a ‘dirty red coat,’ sir, but you are in grave danger if you stay in that armor, now get out of it and tell me where you found it!” “Yeah, and who are you to tell me?” The Doctor rolled his eyes and shook his head, irritated, and said “I’m the Doctor, this is Ms. Clara Oswald, and if you know what’s good for you-and that is debatable right now-you will listen to me and get out of that armor. I know exactly what is happening tonight, and your attire is highly inappropriate, trust me. Now, I will ask you again, where did you get that armor, and if you would be so kind, please lead us to it.” The man stared blankly, turning from Clara to the Doctor for what seemed like ages until Clara, very annoyed, said “oh yes, Doctor, I’m fine, he did not hurt me, thank you so much for asking, the concern means so much to me.” Clara shakily got to her feet and stalked over to stand next to the Doctor, who mumbled something resembling an apology. The gentleman in the armor continued to stare at these two very oddly dressed red coats. Finally, he pressed a button on the inside, with a loud hiss, the armor opened, revealing a very slight, almost malnourished looking frame, and the owner of the bony body hopped out, stretching his limbs. “I’m George, by the way. George Washington. I’m part of the rebellion against you blasted red coats and you’re oppression!” For such an unintimidating figure, this Washington character had quite an aura of leadership about him. 

“Where did that armor come from?” Clara’s head was swimming. The last time she saw that armor, she was almost blown to bits by the inhabitant of it. And now she was talking to a future United States President, who apparently found it lying in an alley. Clara had to bite her tongue when she heard the name. That was something the Doctor, regardless of face or personality, always managed to do: run into famous people. Famous ghost hunters, painters, you name it, the Doctor had met them. He even claimed responsibility for creating the Yorkshire Pudding. Running along with the Doctor was always a who’s who of history. But ice warrior armor? In the Pre-Revolutionary Colonies? That was too strange, even for the Doctor.

“So, are you going to tell us where you got the bloody armor, or am I going to have to find out for myself? This is the third time I am asking, might I also add.” The Doctor was nothing short of at his wits end with Washington. Why did people always do this with him? His adventures would be so much easier if people would just tell him what he wanted and he could move on. But no, it never ended up that way. It was always something like what Washington had just said, “Yeah, and if I do not tell you, what will you do, clown man?” And, of course, the Doctor would have to say what he just said, “Nothing, actually. But if you do not tell me where you got that armor, which I know more about than your great great great great grandson will ever hope to know, there may not be a rebellion for you to go to have tonight. In fact, there may not be any bloody red coats for you to overthrow!” The Doctor let his words sink in, watching Washington’s face, which remained expressionless, only eliciting personality when the man spoke. Clara wished she had an american dollar bill on her, because Washington’s young face looked like a prefect precursor to his face that would be on American currency hundreds of years later. Finally, Washington spoke, his words measured and inquisitive, “this armor, you know all about, eh? Why don’t you prove it, Doctor.” The Doctor chuckled, which shocked Clara, who thought this Doctor incapable of any type of humor, or happiness altogether. 

“This, is the armor of the Ice Warriors from the planet Mars.” The Doctor said this as simply as if he were talking about the weather. Washington just stared, his eyes eliciting more incredulity than any Clara had ever seen before. The Doctor chuckled again, scaring Clara, who did not know what the chuckle meant. “Do you know why i’m laughing, Clara Oswald?” The Doctor looked to Clara, a mad gleam in his eye. Clara looked back, a little frightened, but mostly confused, “I…I don’t, Doctor, why are you laughing?” “Because, my dear Clara, people never believe me, about anything, because everything I explain always manages to be ahead of their time!” The Doctor laughed and looked back to Washington, who’s eyes had not left the Doctor. “Now, Mr. Washington, run along, back to your rebellion, and let me sort this out. It’s obvious you will be of no help to me or Ms. Oswald, so good night.” Washington looked at the Doctor, taken aback by the rudeness of his statement, and piped up “I never said I wouldn’t tell you where I got it! I just wanted to know your…credentials.” The Doctor looked at Washington as he passed him, eyebrow raised “credentials? here are my credentials” The Doctor held up his psychic paper, which caused Washington’s eyes to widen an drop to his knees in a deep bow. “I..I had no idea, I have never seen you are rebellion meetings! I am so sorry!” “Yes, well, no harm done, I am more of what you could call…a silent supporter. Besides, it’s fun the bet when you know the outcome.” After saying this, the Doctor smiled, which softened his features and made him look almost…charming. Clara felt herself gag for thinking this, after how rude and impatient the Doctor was with her earlier, but that was the Doctor. He always had a mad sort of charm about him, always managing to be endearing to those he felt it necessary. She hated that about him, well, about this Doctor. Chin boy was darn near unhateable. 

“I was hunting in the woods and heard a noise, so I went to figure out what it was, and I found this. It was open, and when I got too close, it sort of pulled me in. I don’t really know, or remember, how it happened.” Washington explained this to the Doctor as he looked inside the armor, exploring all he could without a sonic, which he tried to pull out a one point, then acted as though he was adjusting his psychic paper in his pocket. Finally, the Doctor announced, “the armor is dying. Or it’s been abandoned. One or the other. I needs a specific body type to operate it, and it mistook Mr. Washington for it’s true owner. You’re lucky it did not poison you or try to kill you while you were in it. Ice Warriors are very territorial, and they have a fierce belief in taking care of their own. You could have been seen as a violent enemy. Your weapon, luckily, was probably too primitive for the sensors in the armor to identify you as an enemy.” Washington scoffed, “this is the finest hunting rifle around, maybe it is the armor that is too primitive, Doctor…who, by the way?” “Who is fine if you like it, but it’s really just Doctor, or the Doctor” to this he added in a mumble “nobody ever listens to that either.” and continued, “nope, sorry, Mr. Washington. This armor is light years ahead of Earth technology, but I commend you for your confidence…and delusion. Ah, humans, so much confidence, even in such primitive times, I really do love you all, Clara Oswald!” “Doctor, are you ever going to call me just Clara? I feel like i’m back at school or something.” “Well, if you prefer Clara you should have said so, Clara! We’ve only just met, I was trying to keep with the customs of people. You all like your little Mr.’s and Ms. and Mrs. and Dr!” Clara just rolled her eyes and changed the subject, “So! Any chance there is an ice warrior around here in need of his shell?” The Doctor considered this for a minute, then looked to Clara, then Washington. “Well, he or she would not have much time, Ice Warriors are indigenous to colder, more moist climates, so this weather is not optimal for them. If they are out there, they probably are starting to get sick. We need to go now, Washington, do you remember where you found this?” “Yes, Doctor, I do, but what should we do with this while we search?” “Take it with us, of course!” The Doctor ambled over to the armor, licking his chops with excitement, as he was finally able to show off his Doctor…skills. The doctor reached inside the armor and did was seemed like press a bunch of buttons, and with another hiss, the armor closed and began to follow the Doctor, who motioned to Washington to lead the way, looking very proud of himself. As he reached Clara, she gaped at him, then said “He or she? You mean Ice Warriors have genders?” The Doctor seemed very annoyed by this question, “well of course they do, how do you think they reproduce? Osmosis? Have you ever seen an Ice Warrior mating ritual? It’s really quite fascinating!” Clara rolled her eyes and said “Oh yeah, please, let’s see that next Doctor!” 

“Really?”

“No.”

Stay Tuned for Part III!