Shooting Star // Eternalian Chronicles Book 1

12) .Victory of Bracewell.

(Edited)

.Victory of the Daleks.

~Catherine Wood~

"You must be the one I've heard about," a man started, coming up to me. 

I looked up. 

"The ... writer." The man was older with round glasses on his wrinkled clothes. He wore a lab coat so I could only assume that he was a scientist. 

I smiled slightly at him. "Yes. I'm Catherine. Catherine Wood." 

"Well, it will be a pleasure to read your books." 

I chuckled. I doubted he knew that we were from the future.  "At this point, I'm not sure it will ever be published," I said instead. 

The man sat down next to me. His gaze held confusion as if he didn't know why my book wouldn't ever be published. "Well, my name is Dr. Bracewell, my dear, and if I know anything, I know that anything is impossible. I mean, look at my Ironsides! They are truly a work of magic." 

I held back a snort. If Dr. Bracewell would build a real Dalek, it truly would be a work of magic.

"Thanks," I told him. "I'll work on it."

"So is that little boy yours and the Doctor's?" 

A nervous laugh rose from my mouth and a blush rose to my cheeks.  "Of course not! Reid is my brother. The Doctor and I are just friends." 

Dr. Bracewell nodded in understanding. "I see," was all he said. Suddenly, he stood. "Well, I must get back to my work. Those Ironsides aren't going to build themselves!" 

My eyes shot up towards his. What had he just said?

"You-you're making more?" I stuttered. 

He nodded again. "The war won't be won if we don't do something about it!" He claimed before rushing off. 

I got up as well and followed him out. What would the Doctor say? Nothing good, I thought.

*~~~~~*~~~~~*

"They're Daleks!" I heard the Doctor shout from inside Churchill's office. 

I had finally found him. I breathed a sigh of relief. 

"They're called Daleks. Why did you call me if you won't listen to me?" 

I quietly walked in carefully, not trying to interrupt the conversation.

"When I rang you a month ago," Churchill agreed, "I had my doubts. But they're amazing! They're Bracewell's Ironsides, Doctor. Blueprints, statistics, field tests, photographs, he invented it!" Churchill looked over the Doctor's shoulder at me. 

The mad man turned, surprised that he hadn't noticed me behind him. 

"What do you say?" Churchill suddenly questioned me. "From what Bracewell says, you're a genius. You know what you're doing."

 Out of view of the minister, The Doctor rolled his eyes dramatically. 

I held back a laugh and shrugged. "I don't know what to think," I told him, honestly. "I'd have to see the plans. The blueprints and things." 

Churchill nodded in satisfaction. "I actually have them right here." He indicated towards his desk. 

I moved toward it and the Doctor stepped out of the way to give me a better look. I gazed at them for a couple moments. Something was off, but I wasn't quite sure what. I flipped through the pages, peering at them curiously. They all looked real enough. The math was written on the sides and the designs seemed sketched properly. However ...