How to Save the Universe

What is this? An Appointment with the Doctor.

The mysterious girl with an American accent took in her surroundings as she picked confetti out of her blonde hair. She wore jeans a red t-shirt and brown leather jacket that ended just under her chest. She wore a guitar pick on a necklace and her hands were covered in fingerless gloves.

"Where am I this time? An ally? Ew, smells a bit like London actually...21st century too. But what universe?" Taking out a little silver box with an antenna from the patchwork bag on her shoulder, the blonde girl began scanning.

A red light turned on, illuminating her face.

“ERROR 401: UNABLE TO PROCESS REQUEST”

“Damn, I forgot the PUMP isn’t working. Stupid Pirates, why do they always have to bite shiny things to see how much they’re worth? It’s completely ridiculous to assume every metal’s purity can be measured by malleability like gold. Pfft. Doesn’t even look like gold…”

Pushing down the antenna, the American girl dropped the shiny metal box into her bag.

“Guess I’ll just have to find out where I am the old fashioned way! Exploration!” She said, pointing her finger up into the air and making a cheesy pose, “Wow, really glad no one was there to see that, heh.”

Looking around, something shiny on the ground caught her eye. Stooping down she picked it up and examined it.

“Now why would someone throw away a perfectly good Swiss army knife? Idgits,” said the girl, closing the blade and dropping it into her bag as she sauntered out of the alley.

There seemed to be some construction going on outside of the alley, not at the moment of course, that would be ridiculous, (it was obviously the middle of the night) but nonetheless it seemed as if some bureaucrat was trying to spruce up the seedy neighborhood.

Rubbing her hands together, the American made her way towards a street light to her left. “Now where am I? And where should I go?” Looking around she spotted a street sign on the side of brick building, in faded block letters it said:

CREMER STREET

“Cremer. Creeeemmeeeeerrrrrr. Crem. Er. What a funny name.” She spotted another sign right next to her:

DIVERTED TRAFFIC ⇑

“When in doubt, scream and shout. Or follow the arrows.”

...

For hours she just walked. Past crumbling brick walls and graffiti’ed buildings. Simply enjoying the air, sounds and sights of earth.

“Oh! It feels so good to be home! Even if it is the wrong country, and the wrong universe,” said the girl as she watched the sun rise over the buildings.

She continued strolling along a new street, KINGSLAND ROAD, passing Vietnamese restaurants and fenced in gardens. The neighborhood had definitely improved.

Later, as if by an invisible cue, buses began to roar down the road hauling around early morning commuters in bendy buses and double-decker buses covered in ads for BBC and cameras.

...

On and on she walked passing bus stops, little red telephone booths-

“How cute!” she squealed and could not help going inside and pretending to be Superman for a bit, picking up the receiver she spoke in her deepest voice “I’m sorry Lois I can’t be there, I had to stop by and save London-“

A school bus carrying little British children towards their fieldtrip destination drove by and the American heard vague little snatches of tiny voices with English accents singing a bus song.

She continued on giving a chirpy, “Hello!” to the early morning joggers and shoppers, craning her neck in every direction taking in all the traffic signs, the blue police box, and the little displays in the shop windows.

“Fish and chips! Fish and chips! Get ‘em while they’re hot! Best in town!" Bragged one of the little shop's signs.

It was truly a beautiful day.

The sun was shining prettily and the birds tweeted happily when suddenly there came a loud BOOM from around the corner and smoke drifted into the sky about the rooftops.

People began running in every direction screams came from around the corner and traffic came to a stand still as a little mini collided into the side of a truck.

“Shit! Sounds like somebody started the party without me! How rude!” Bolting down the street, her medium length blonde hair streaming behind her, the American ran towards the chaos, hazel eyes concentrated in concern, despite her flippant remarks.

She skidded to a halt as she came to the smoking wreckage, a placard lying in the middle of a street read,

GEFFREY MUSUEM

-in smoky black letters. Looking up she saw the smoldering remains of what was probably once a very beautiful building.

People were screaming and crying, women were shouting and calling for their children, husbands called for their wives, children cried out for their parents, everyone, everywhere was searching for their loved ones.

Chaos had come to Kingland Road. The peaceful and serene street had become a mad house.

A familiar looking man unfazed by the scrambling people stood on the corner, watching the chaos with sad and knowing eyes.

"No way… It couldn’t be.” The blond girl stopped, frozen, in the anarchy, and stared at the long gangly man in a long brown coat.

What should she do? What could she do? What was she going to say. She so desperately needed him and yet he would have no idea who she was, or how she knew what she did.

But something else caught her eye, breaking her train of thought.

A school bus parked on the side of the street –empty of the children she had seen before.

Her bright hazel eyes widened in horror, “No... No!” Running now, running like she never had before, the mysterious blonde girl went straight past the man in the brown coat towards the completely demolished building.

Scrambling over the broken brick, frayed wires and concrete she began calling out frantically, “Hello?! Hello?! Is anyone still alive? Kids?” Thinking quickly she reached into her bag and pulled out a small silver box, only vaguely resembling the one in the alley and flipped it open like a cell phone. It whirred to life with little ‘brr’ noises as she waved it over the rubble.

Ambulances and fire trucks were screeching in the distance, seeming to say in high electronic voices: "Help is on the way!"

“A life sign! One meter down -but it’s so weak!” cried out the young woman. Folding up the device and shoving it back to her bag she began digging through the rubble with her gloved hands.

She tore at the dirt and rocks with her fingernails ignoring her own blood all the while crying, “Help! Help! I need help over here! There’s one still alive down here!”

Suddenly he was there, right beside her, digging just as frantically as she. The Doctor.

No time to think of that now. She thought, as they cleared away the last of the debris.
It was a school boy, no older than eight, his pale face bruised and his brown hair red with blood.

“Shit,” she said and immediately pulled out the little box and flipped it open again as the Doctor put his fingers to the boys throat.

The American girl pulled a little round piece from the device and waved it over the boy.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she said as she scrambled through her bag looking for something. The sirens were getting closer now, but they were still too far away, there wasn’t enough time she would have to do something.

“He’s not going to make it,” sadly stated the Doctor, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes he is.” Said the girl stubbornly, “Where is it? Damn this bag—ha!” Triumphantly she pulled free a small, metal circle placed it on the boy’s temple and pressed a button. Lights began flashing as the small device began to work.

“What is that?” said the Doctor.

The American ignored him and scanned the boy again as she tucked her blonde hair behind her ears.

The Doctor pulled out a little metal rod from his pocket pointed it at the machine and fuddled with his own device as it hummed loudly.

“Don’t do that!” yelled the girl as she slapped his hand down. Pulling out her own but slightly different cylindrical object, she placed it to the boy’s neck. It released a small hissing noise and she put it back in her bag.

“What did you just do?” said the Doctor authoritatively with just a touch of suspicion in his voice.

“I saved him.” Stated the girl simply, looking up as the ambulances arrived. Standing up and waving her arms she began to yell, “Here! Over here! There’s one alive over here!”

Then stooping down, she took the small circular object from his head and looked at the man in front of her, “Will you help me dig out the other survivors?”

“Yes, yes of course… Who are you?” asked the Doctor. Faced with a difficult decision, the American looked down at the man who could help her –or destroy her, and decided not to tell him everything –yet. She would pretend as if she didn’t know who he was, or what he could do. Better not show him any of her other technology as well.

“I’m Alaina Brayden. And you are?” she said holding out her gloved hand.

“The Doctor,” said he, taking her hand and standing up.

“Doctor who?” she said, silently laughing in her own mind. She’d always wanted to say that.

“No last name. Just the Doctor,” came his expected reply.