(MAIN RANGE): Genesis of The Humans

(MAIN RANGE): Genesis of The Humans

By Alicantevsauce

Cover by Arbrax

 Fun was invented in the year 150,000 BC by the Meddling Monk, when he accidentally let a few primitive syllables slip to explain to some natives why he was chortling away at three monkeys fighting each other after he had thrown an apple at one of them. 

The natives themselves weren’t too far off from monkeys at this point, but they joined in on the chortling soon after, despite this. Chortling became cackling, and cackling became knee-slapping as one of the early humans found themselves caught up in the fight, being hit repeatedly by a small, black-haired ape with a big stick. 

A refreshing chill blew in from the West. Grass both tall and short swayed in the wind. The clouds were beautiful, and the breeze made the sweltering heat that beamed down from the midday sky almost bearable. 

Once the fight ceased (you really don’t want to know who won,) there was no sound to be heard bar the chirping of birds. Peace. 

For the primitives discovering themselves, life as they knew it was just beginning. For the lone traveller who had retired by his makeshift hut on the edge of the savannah, life had been long, and he lay in the shrubbery; dozing off. 

Mortimus had taken off his habit and felt the ground beneath his naked back. He didn’t need to use his costume or his alias here. The natives he was observing didn’t have clothes - only leaves - and besides, there wouldn’t be monks around for a very long time.

“You will explain your presence at the temporal nexus point and surrender yourself to the superior race.”

Mortimus jumped at the booming voice, and brushed the grass off his back. His eyes darted around. A bush - no one there. Two trees. The jungle, too far away for the voice to be this loud. A monkey. His hut, the door locked. Another bush. His timeship, the door definitely locked. Another bush. It took a great leap of logic and a threatening furrowing of a black, furry brow in front of him to realise who was speaking. It was the monkey.

“Well,” Mortimus said. “This is new.”

- - - - - 

SEVERAL HOURS EARLIER

THE MISSION IS SIMPLE. The Time Strategist’s voice boomed, reverberating back from a cliffside in not as much of an echo as a confirmation it had heard and understood. THE CULT OF SKARO WERE CREATED TO REPRESENT INGENUITY AND CREATIVITY AMONG OUR KIND, BUT THEY ARE WEAK, AND CORRUPT. THEY WASTE THEIR TIME ASSIGNING THEMSELVES NAMES AND DEVELOPING THEIR MYTHOLOGY; STALLING AND FAILING TO ACHIEVE VICTORY. 

WE WILL USURP THEM! WE WILL USURP THEM! The Strategist was facing 2 Daleks, both clad in shining bronze armour; their weapons raised in a salute. 

DALEKS CANNOT WHISPER VERY WELL, BUT THERE WERE WHISPERS GOING AROUND THAT, FOR THE WAR EFFORT, WE WOULD ATTEMPT TO CANCEL THE TIME LORDS OF GALLIFREY OUT OF HISTORY, BY PREVENTING THEIR ORIGIN. THIS IS FALSE. 

EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!

GALLIFREYAN HISTORY IS VAST AND WRAPPED IN ITS OWN CONVOLUTION. KEY INFORMATION CONCERNING THE FOUNDING OF GALLIFREY IS CONTAINED WITHIN VARIOUS OUT OF PRINT NOVELS, AND THE ENTIRE TREASURY OF THE DALEK EMPIRE DOES NOT HAVE ENOUGH MONEY TO PURCHASE COPIES. SECONDARILY, THE DOCTOR - THE ENEMY OF THE DALEKS - WAS APPARENTLY TASKED WITH PREVENTING THE DALEKS’ CREATION, AND IF HE EVER FOUND OUT WE WERE STEALING THAT IDEA, HE WOULD MAKE FUN OF US FOR IT FOREVER. 

SO WHAT IS THE PLAN?

The Dalek Time Strategist cleared its throat, which sounded like a car starting after being kicked by a boomer in an effort to prove to the salesman that it’s still in good condition. WHAT DO YOU KNOW OF HUMANS?

- - - - - 

A clock ticking from somewhere impossible. The quiet, calm humming and pulsing of the ship’s console. Harry grumbling something vaguely misogynistic. Everything was there that was always there, but Sarah-Jane Smith knew something - something - was wrong. 

“Oh, is everything alright, Doctor?” Sarah sighed. “You’ve been staring at those coordinates for hours now!”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’m sure everything’s fine,” the Doctor replied, unconvincingly. 

“Some navigator you are, Doctor,” Harry chuckled. “You can’t make head nor tail of that readout and you know it!”

“Ah. Well. There’s far more to knowledge than heads and tails, Harry.” The Doctor smiled one of his wide smiles. “The planet Grabilia, you know Grabilia? I’ve always meant to take you there, you know. Well, their coinage won’t do much good having a head on it, given the people there don’t have heads. And on Kalmyk 5 they exchange brain cells to pay for goods, yes - no heads or tails there, but a fully functioning society nonetheless.”

“Must be quite the experience to go bankrupt on Kalmyk 5, eh?” Harry chuckled again. 

“Is that where you bought that expensive jacket?” Sarah teased. 

Harry couldn’t think of a comeback, so he simply patted her on the back and grumbled something misogynistic. 

- - - - -

“You are... a monkey.”

“Correct,” the monkey replied.

“Okay. Well. You’re very... articulate. And knowledgeable too, ‘temporal nexus point’, what’s that all about, eh?” Mortimus was mildly unsettled. 

“Silence,” said the monkey.

“Do you... know who I am?”

“You are a rogue time traveller under the guise of early Christian authority.”

“How do you know that?” Mortimus spluttered. 

“You seem very... Monk-y.”

Mortimus sighed. It was a deep sigh. He ran a few dozen comebacks over in his head, before promising he would never stoop that low. 

The monkey continued: “This area is now under monkey control. Vacate the premise and timezone immediately or be... consumed.”

“Consumed?”

“We are dangerous monkeys... and hungry.”

“You know what? I was having a nice holiday, but this is a bit freaky, so, um... however anticlimactic it seems I’m just gonna... leave.”

The monkey furrowed it’s brow once again. “Really?”

“Yep.”

Mortimus picked up his habit, opened his timeship, entered his timeship and dematerialised. That’s it. He just left. Did you really see the Monk as the hero type? He’s gone. He will not be back.

- - - - - 

“Well, we’ve arrived.” The Doctor lifted his hat and scarf from the coat rack and put them on. “Let’s see what the scanner is showing us then. Come on, old girl, where are we this time?”

A buzzing sound. The part of the control room wall the screen sat in retracted.

“Well,” began Harry, narrating his actions like he was in a slightly weaker full-cast audio drama, “there’s a body of water. An ocean maybe? Dry grass. Everything’s a bit yellow. A sea by a savannah? Probably a lake, actually. I see quite a few rafts out on the water, although they’re a bit rubbish. Flimsy.”

“There’s a thing that looks like a pier leading out, too,” Sarah added. 

“Oh look! Docks!” said the Doctor. 

“Yes Doctor, quite.” Harry gestured towards the doors, prompting the Doctor to flick a switch on a control panel. 

Outside, the sight became more clear. It was a dock, but a very primitive one. Bits of wood were haphazardly fitted together, and covered in dirt and grass. There seemed to be no logic to it’s construction at all. If he didn’t know better, Harry would have suggested they were in prehistory. Harry often did not know better.

“Oh! This looks nice!” The rest of the savannah had caught Sarah’s eye. 

“Yes, yes. Quite beautiful, really. No tourists yet. No plastic, either, always nice.” The Doctor rambled on as he started walking in a random direction - his tour guide persona had clearly taken over. 

“Oh I say,” Harry exclaimed. “We’ve got company.”

- - - - - 

HUMANITY IS A PLAGUE ON THE UNIVERSE. ON SO MANY WORLDS WITH VALUABLE RESOURCES, THE HUMANS WAIT, GUARDING THEM. RESOURCES ARE WASTED WAGING WARS AGAINST THEM TO RID THE UNIVERSE OF THEIR POINTLESSNESS. YET THEY ALWAYS RETURN. 

EXTERMINATE THE HUMANS! EXTERMINATE THE HUMANS!

THEIR EXISTENCE IS SIMPLY INEFFICIENT. AND WHILE GALLIFREY IS UNAPPROACHABLE AT THIS STAGE OF THE WAR, HUMANITY CAN BE RIPPED OUT ROOT AND STEM, CREATING RIPPLES THROUGHOUT THE WEB OF TIME SHOWING OUR DOMINANCE. WE WILL REDUCE HUMANITY TO DUST. THE FUTURE OF WARFARE AGAINST COUNTLESS FREEDOM FIGHTERS - GONE. MANY PREVIOUS FOILED PLANS OF INVASION - GONE. THE DOCTOR’S PET PLANET, FROM WHICH HE DERIVES HIS PASSION, MORAL COMPASS AND COMPANY - GONE.

EXTERMINATE THE HUMANS! EXTERMINATE THE HUMANS!

YOU HAVE BEEN SELECTED AS UNDERCOVER SPIES, AS THIS IS A MISSION OF ESPIONAGE. I WAS TOLD THERE WOULD BE THREE OF YOU, BUT APPARENTLY ONE OF YOU NEGLECTED TO SHOW UP. HE WAS NEVER VERY PUNCTUAL WITH THE ZOOM MEETINGS EITHER, SO I DO NOT KNOW WHAT I WAS EXPECTING. 

WHAT IS THE MISSION? 

THE CULT OF SKARO’S INNOVATION HAS COST US RESOURCES. THEIR APPARENT DEVOTION TO MODERNITY IS... INEFFICIENT. HOWEVER, THEY HAVE THEIR USES. YOU HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED STATE-OF-THE-ART CLOAKING DEVICES, WHICH WILL ALLOW YOU TO CHANGE YOUR APPEARANCE SEAMLESSLY. 

There was silence. A tumbleweed spun past, which the Time Strategist obliterated for being an inferior species. 

One Dalek queried: WE HAVE HAD CLOAKING DEVICES FOR MANY YEARS. 

YES. THESE NEW ONES ARE BETTER.

HOW? EXPLAIN!

THEY ARE BETTER AT CLOAKING.

THE DALEKS PERFECTED CLOAKING YEARS AGO, THERE IS NOTHING TO IMPROVE. PEOPLE EITHER SEE YOU OR YOU DON’T. WE SHOULD WAIT UNTIL THERE ARE AN ABUNDANCE OF NEW FEATURES BEFORE RELEASING A NEW CLOAKING DEVICE. 

THE CULT OF SKARO CLAIM TO THINK DIFFERENT. THE EMPEROR HIMSELF APPROVES OF THEIR METHODS. I DO NOT, BUT THEIR DEVELOPMENTS ARE USEFUL IN UNDERRATED WAYS. 

SO WE WILL DISGUISE OURSELVES AS HUMANS?

NOT EXACTLY. BUT THESE WILL BE VITAL IN WINNING THIS TIME WAR. ALSO THERE IS NO HEADPHONE JACK. 

- - - - - 

“Doctor,” Sarah said, disappointed but not surprised. “I think you may have misjudged something.”

“Would you care for a jellybaby in this trying time?” The Doctor was not being very reassuring. Instead, he was proving that he wasn’t completely empty-headed, and was juggling a few dozen thoughts - at least two of them tangentially relevant to the situation at hand. The situation at hand being being captured by cavemen that are trying to banish them to the monkey-infested forest the Doctor neglected to find out about.

“Trying time? Of all the cheek! We’re not trying to do anything, it’s these cavemen that are trying to banish us to the monkey-infested forest you neglected to find out about!” Sarah said. 

“I think you’re having a slight bit of an overreaction. Would you like a jellybaby, to calm you down?”

Sarah couldn’t believe it. What was he playing at?

“Listen, Sarah. If we’re going to die together, right here, right now, in this monkey-infested forest, I want to tell you something. A secret of mine.”

“The dozens of lifetimes you’ve had, from before your first incarnation? Yeah, sorry, I already know. One of the girls from Karn was telling me the other week. Apparently one of the readouts on their screens was acting up. I told her ‘no, no, your tech is working fine, I’m sure at some point he thought that mustache was in fashion’.”

“Eh?”

“Never mind.”

“Well, what I was going to say was all of my jellybabies are spiked with Valium. It calms the nerves, you know. Come on, have one.”

The thrilling cliffhanger of whether or not popular children’s TV heroine Sarah-Jane Smith was going to consume drugs onscreen was unfortunately cut short by the aforementioned early humans.

“Ooga booga. Ooga ooga booga.” The TARDIS translation circuits were evidently doing... something. “Ooga booga booga.”  A man wrapped in various leaves raised a flaming torch, and pointed out towards an endless blackness in front of the imprisoned. What light wasn’t immediately swallowed up by such an ominous abyss was reflected back, giving the Doctor, Sarah and Harry glimpses of apes great and small, baring their teeth. 

Harry seemed to be very pleased that there were no women anywhere to be seen - and smiled contently - although one of the monkeys snarling at him made him blurt out a serious of very polite expressions of how he didn’t very much want to be there, thank you. 

“Doctor,” Sarah said, though clenched teeth. “I don’t suppose you have a plan?”

The cavemen seemed to have taken up some kind of chanting. More of them had flaming torches now, which the Doctor seemed very personally regretful about. 

“Well. While institutional sexism in humans unfortunately carries on until past even your twentieth century, the same prejudices that afford the fairer sex lesser opportunities in society are not present in the assigning of sentry duties in prehistoric monkeys.”

“So?”

“So, the laws of probability and biology dictate that once we’re inevitably removed from these hempen ropes and cast out into the wilderness, half of the angry monkeys that will be unleashed upon us will be female.”

“I’m not getting it.”

“Harry is not yet aware of this.”

Sarah began to giggle. “So Harry finds out that some of the monkeys are women-“

“-and his overwhelming dislike of women will make him want to patronise them, yes.” The Doctor grinned, a wider grin than even Sarah had seen him contort himself into. “And while he’s drawing attention to himself-“

“-we escape, and come back for him later in the TARDIS! Oh Doctor, that’s brilliant!”

“Why thank you, Sarah! You know, I’m rather good at taking advantage of my companions to achieve good ends. I sure hope this doesn’t manifest itself into something more dangerous later on.”

“Ooga booga. Ooga ooga booga booga.”

“Ooga?”

“Booga, ooga?”

“Booga booga booga.”

“Ooga.”

The lead caveman brought his attention back to the Doctor.

“Ooga ooga booga booga. Booga.”

Men with spears advancing. Fire crackling. Harry and the Doctor squirming in their ropes. Monkeys snarling in the dark, the dark snarling with them. Sarah, eyes closed, hoping the Doctor’s plan would work. Knives slashing through the air, and then through the ropes. First the Doctor’s, then Harry’s, then Sarah’s. More snarling. The monkeys advanced. The chanting from the cavemen continued, merciless. Sarah was sick to her stomach - dying from some primitive ritual, and for what? And then...

Nothing. The monkeys had disappeared. Vanished, into thin air.

TO BE CONTINUED. 

This story (hypothetically) starred

Tom Baker as The Doctor

Sadie Miller as Sarah-Jane Smith

Christopher Naylor as Harry Sullivan as An Imbecile

Jon Culshaw as the Meddling Monk

Nicholas Briggs as the Daleks

All monkeys played by members of the cast