“You know, a smart young mare like you ought to be capable of living on her own, instead of in the basement of her mum and dad’s,” scolded Lyra’s father, a stallion with a pencil thin mustache on top of a hairy ivory coat.
“Dad, we’ll just be a second,” Lyra pleaded, moving through the living room and towards the basement.
Lyra’s parents apparently had little regard for picking up after themselves. The sofa had a half-eaten bag of chips still on it, while a baby pen set up to contain a small little magenta unicorn was in danger of being knocked over by a particularly tall stack of half-folded laundry that had yet to be sorted into baskets.
Lyra’s space in the downstairs was considerably more organized compared to the chaos above. She had drawers, a proper desk, and although her bed and table top were covered in scraps of paper it lent the appearance of somepony in the middle of a project rather than being carelessly left where it was.
“I swear, I’ve had it,” the unicorn fumed, “I’m trying to get a position using my vocal talents at the recording studio, I almost have the position nailed. But no, that’s not good enough for them. It’s always ‘Lyra, pick up the room you never come up to’ or ‘Lyra, stay home and watch your baby sister’ or ‘Lyra, when are you gonna get your own space’.”
“Maybe you should move in somewhere else,” Derpy suggested, sitting herself down on the carpeted floor, “That’s what I did.”
“Maybe... yeah. Maybe." Lyra shrugged her shoulders.
“Anyways,” started Derpy, “About this Doctor business....”
“Yes, The Doctor. I’m not surprised you heard about him after all of this business about disappearing ponies. It’s like.... evidence of him turns up after events like this. Weird events. Did somepony from the Crypto Club tell you about the Doctor?”
“No, not really,” Derpy mumbled.
Lyra plopped herself down on her bed, moving her papers and notes about to give her some space. She then used her magic to levitate a large scrapbook folder out of one of her cabinets, which was labeled “The Doctor” and featured a hoof-drawn picture of a frizzy-haired stallion wearing a long scarf and a crooked felt hat. Certainly not anything like the pony she had met, though on closer inspection....
The cutie mark was the same.
“Stories of this ‘Doctor’ have been around for centuries. Starswirl the Bearded’s own journal talks about a traveling healer calling himself “The Doctor”, somepony who took to wearing a jacket made of animal hide and did battle with a giant pony-eating worm.”
“Who’s Starswirl the bearded?” Derpy asked, cocking her head to one side.
“Somepony ancient and famous, doesn’t matter,” Lyra said, "Though on a separate occasion, years later, he wrote about the Doctor coming back, but looking different and having forgotten all about the encounter."
She flipped through a few pages, until she found a black and white photograph from the coronation of Princess Cadance, about twenty years ago.
“This is Cadance’s coronation, in 1978, “ Lyra said, holding up the photograph for Derpy to see, “That pony there, you see him?”
“The one with the hat?”
“Look at his neck... look at the collar.”
“He’s... he’s got a stalk of celery on there, imagine that!”
“I think it’s the same pony from Starswirl the Bearded’s account. The journal described him in more detail, and the outfit, the whole outfit matches. Hat, collar, garnish...”
“He can’t be the same pony,” Derpy said with a laugh, “He’d either have to be over a thousand years old or a time traveler!”
“Several thousand. Many, many thousands of years were between these two sightings.”
She showed Derpy a drawing of a blue box... the TARDIS!
“The club seems to think that this is what his time machine looks like, as it’s also shown up scattered in history. It’s on a stained glass window in a Saddle Arabian palace, from the fifth century After Discord.”
“Wow,” Derpy said, stunned. Even though the drawings and the pictures of the ponies meant to be ‘The Doctor’ were clearly different save for the cutie mark, the ship had remained the same- the ship she had been on. She wrestled with telling Lyra the truth, seriously considering spilling the beans then and there about her involvement with The Doctor, but she didn’t.
“So, what connection do you suppose he has to what’s going on?” asked Derpy, rolling to her side.
“The Doctor always appears in times of significance; either something significant or historical is happening, or there’s a big tragedy,” Lyra said, flipping the book to an index of sightings.
“So, he’s a superhero?”
“Not really, more like a... I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s such a mystery; nopony even knows what he does. Most think it's just a gag or a hoax, including most of the Crypto Club. It's just me and a hoof-full of other ponies that have done any real looking into it.”
She flipped the page, and there was an ink drawing dated from the 1800s, depicting a box shaped like the TARDIS, and the Doctor himself, dressed almost exactly the same as she had seen him: a short mane and a loosely worn leather coat. To his side was a mare, a unicorn mare with her mane flopped over one side of her head. Her cutie mark wasn’t visible.
Lyra took little notice to the picture, and continued flipping through the pages while Derpy felt a chill running down her neck, though she didn’t know why.
“...and here is my favorite image, an image of The Doctor and an alien!”
The image was blurry, and in black and white, but Derpy could see another version of the Doctor, with a floppy wide-brim hat and a scarf, facing off against something that was almost equally blurred and partially cut off, which was covered in odd bumps and had something resembling a plunger sticking out.
****
After spending some time conversing with Lyra, Derpy was ready to take her leave of the house. It was late, and it was nearly time for Carrot Top to be making stew back at the cottage. She said her goodbyes to Lyra and her parents, and left.
The sky grew darker as Derpy trotted down the dirt path toward the cottage, which was almost a mile away. She took care not to take the short route home through ponyville, still wary of the taxi carriages. The Doctor had said that she had a few hours until they - whoever they were- could launch another for her, but she didn’t want to press her luck.
Her heart sank as a taxi carriage adorned with a lantern for the darkening sky swooped down on her, landing in such a way as to block her path.
The sides of the yellow carriage were dented inwards, and the paint had been scraped off in places, and cracked. It appeared slightly damaged.
“Get into the carriage,” a rather dull robotic voice sounded from the driver. Whatever tech that had been used to make him sound ‘normal’ before must have been damaged, as well.
“I don’t think so,” Derpy said, spreading her wings and backing up. From the side of the carriage extended a small turret, fixing it’s sights on Derpy. She was being held at gunpoint.
“On second thought....”
She had no choice. Either she could try to run away and risk being shot, fly away and risk it ramming her in midair, or she could get inside and try to find the Doctor at whatever location the taxi brought her to. If she couldn’t escape, she’d have to submit herself willingly.
She just hoped that wherever ponies were being taken wasn’t fatal.