Day 6 - Stone

Stone

Time Lords tend to think they are Lords of the Universe too.  Nonsense, there were beings before the Time Lords.  There are beings here after the Time Lords. We´re still here, for one.  They aren´t except one.  Similarity can be fun.

But as always, The Doctor remembers. And forgets. And tells a ´good´ story no matter what the reality was.  Remember Rule #1, it doesn´t matter what face the Doctor wears, the Doctor lies.

The Doctor calls us the Weeping Angels.  That´s two conceits - we are not weeping and we are not angels. Nor do we take our life force from humans (or Time Lords, for that matter).  What tiny, pointless lives these creatures have. They are born and die on the same small orbiting rock. Robin Goodfellow said it best ´Lord, what fools these mortals be!¨  By the way, he was one of ours.  We do not hang around to the end because the true Star Killer has always been iron.  And it´s not condusive to us, even if it is conductive.

We don´t begrudge the Doctor his protection of these weary little animals; they look to him with such awe and love.  Who wouldn´t want to be that hero, that Time Lord Victorious.

And his tales of us are as a gnat chattering at an elephant, if you want Earth terms.  We are here.  We abide.  We play a longer game than even the Doctor understands.

Stone requires no nourishment; it fears not wind nor rain nor howling night.  We take our shape from the small dreams and fears of those around us.  We have been fierce in our form, awesome in our aspect, meek in our mien.  What ever the most sentient beings required.  We were there on Poosh, San Helios before the sand, and with the Kovarian Chapter, a most unimaginative people. We were there at Planet One.  We´ve chased the heat death across the universe, and we are still here.

Here and now, we look like angels. These humans find that safe, even comforting.  We´ve been mighty Athena in her Acropolis, the Moai before the Rapa Nui self-destructed, the legion of warriors in the tomb of Qin Shi Huang.  Not all of them, of course, but the ones still extent and still unfound.

Our life source comes from something very close at hand, something found throughout your tiny galaxy, throughout the unknown universe.  We follow the neon.  Oh, now don´t get worried about your little light pools in Vegas and Tokyo.  That wouldn´t feed a midge for a heartbeat.  No, we need something more robust, more plentiful.  And it is close at hand, only 4 billion years more.  That´s a Sunday nap to us.

That big yellow ball of hydrogen will someday lose its cool and go all helium on you.  You probably won´t care.  But all Real Housewives might care about the next phase, carbon, because carbon under pressure is just a diamond in the sky.  You heard that right, Lucy was one of ours and it wasn´t LSD she was seeking (She did make a wrong turn, though, and end up on your Earth way ahead of schedule.  Let´s just say she trusted the wrong Time Lord for directions.)

And before carbon goes all oxygenated on us, there is neon rich time.  That´s where we get our life energy.  We feast and fest, we live a great time and then fly out on the oxygen burn, missing out on the Iron Death.  On to the next midlife crisis stellar moment.  We burn so brightly in that time.  You could not survive looking at us.  Which is, of course, where the Doctor started his wild tales.

Don´t worry - blink all you want.  Close your eyes and rest.  After all, that is what we are doing until our next great party.

PS you scientific types who say that your Sol is too small to go on through to carbon-neon-oxygen-iron.  Seriously, you´ve lived. what, 15 minutes?  I’ve seen ¨Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate¨.  You get those dreams and whispers from somewhere.  Trust us.

(This is a slightly edited redux)



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