The New Doctor! A Doctor Who Alternate History Story

Part 20 - The Blow Up

WARNING - MATURE LANGUAGE AND ADULT THEMES.

"All right," Barry Letts said, rifling through the stack of papers. "That takes care of that item. Now, next on the agenda. We've got a memo from Chembest, that they've taken a large shipment of 35 mm from some American production company, so they'd like to move us down the queu a bit. They're willing to offer us a discount. With our budget, we need to take advantage of that. So I've taken the liberty of doing some revised schedules..."

They were all seated around a group of folding tables in the main studio, wedged together to form a large table. The production lacked the space for the luxury of a boardroom or a boardroom table, so large meetings of the production staff, would take place in the open space of the main studio. Over in the corner, the Tardis console sat disconsolately, several panels opened, indicating a half completed repair. Lining the walls were various flats.

Ian Levine was there, and Paul Bernard of course. There was Tom and Stacy from the art department, Kevin from props, Alastair for the carpenters, there was the DOP, 2nd Ad, the full crew.

"Now, on to the next..."

Ian cleared his throat.

There was a sudden silence. Barry froze, his papers in mid shuffle. He glanced at Paul, their eyes met. There was an unspoken groan 'not again.'

"I have an announcement to make," Levine said. "I think everyone will be quite interested."

"Indeed, Ian," Paul said, "but could we deal with it at the end of the day. We're in the middle of the agenda here."

"But this is important," Levine wheedled. "It has to do with the Agenda."

Paul glanced at Barry, who lifted an eyebrow slightly.

"Oh all right," Barry Letts said. "But let's deal with it quickly, and go back to the Agenda. We still have to wrap Vienna, 1913, and then talk about start up on the next serial. We're only a week away and it's time to schedule sets."

"This has everything to do with the next serial," Levine said proudly. He took a deep breath.

The group around the table, froze.

"I have obtained the rights to the Sontarans," Levine announced proudly. "We can use them."

There was almost a sigh around the table, a soft sound of people exhaling. Of having unconsciously held their breaths. There was never any telling what Ian would come up with.

People blinked, looked around, shrugged. 'We can use them?' What did that mean? There were four episodes, two serials, and they were already planned and written. There was a soft murmer of uncertainty, almost a whisper.

"You fucking imbecile," Barry Letts said. His voice was low, his features neutral. He seemed quite calm.

Paul Bernard looked shocked. His eyes widened.

"What?" Ian couldn't believe what he'd heard. "What did you say, Barry?"

"I said," Letts spoke with low ruthless determination, passion beginning to gather in his voice, "you 'quote' fucking 'unquote' imbecile. Should I say it louder?"

A deathly hush settled over the room.

"How utterly stupid are you? How bloviatingly ignorant? Do you have the faintest idea of what we are doing here? I've tried to be patient with you, gods help me, I've tried. But every day, over and over again, it's the same thing. You come in here with whatever moronic idea happened to cross your mind that morning, and then you just assume we'll jump up and welcome it. And then you act like a petulant child when we don't. Do you have any idea what we're doing here? Do you have any idea what this is about?"