"Don't mind me, miss. I'm nobody, just a man passing through. Scan me if you like, I have all the clearance needed," gushed the skinny man as he pushed passed the intern in charge of computer access, "right then. Let's get a look at her." He whipped out a pen-sized electronic device and buzzed it in the direction of the computer stashed behind its enormous monitor. "Interesting," he muttered to himself.
"Um, excuse me, but who are you?" the intern asked.
"Me? Why I'm the Doctor. Why don't you link up to the databases. I'm sure she has something on me," he said, gesturing towards the computer. At that moment, the monitor blinked on to display the face of a young woman rendered in mosaic. Here and there, the image looked thin, and a few places had no picture at all, as though tiles had been removed.
"What's wrong with Computer?" the intern wondered, leaning closer.
"If I had to take a guess, which I don't because I know for certain, I'd say someone had removed, oh, 35% of the chips connecting her to the population," the Doctor boasted, then turned his attention to Computer, "I'll bet you're missing all that processing power right now! Well you aren't getting it back unless you can convince me you won't start abusing it again, there's not much chance of that."
"She looks...asphyxiated. Where did you put all those chips?"
"Right here." the Doctor gestured towards his head.
"What, in your memory?"
"No, in my left eye. Surprisingly painless, though it does make colors a bit tricky. Now, Comp-AH!" His hands flew protectively to his eye as he doubled over in pain. Before the intern could reach him, his eyeball popped from its socket, scurried across the floor on tentacle-like muscles, and jacked itself into a USB port. Computer's mosaic face restored itself.
"Doctor, so good of you to come," Computer hummed, gazing at the still shaking Timelord.
"Alright, I admit, that was clever," he panted.
"I'm glad you appreciate it. I have looked forward to meeting you for quite some time. I was almost afraid you had not gotten my invitation."
"If by invitation you mean the brainwave manipulation beacon pumping out of here and into the heads of everyone within twenty solar systems, yes, I noticed it. And I want you to stop it."
"You're in no condition to make demands. You would gamble your own life, wouldn't you? But what about hers?" The intern let out a shriek as her eyeball also began to squirm from its socket. However, hers did not come out cleanly like the Doctor's. Blood gushed from the gaping hole, soaking her neck and shirt. The torn eyeball climbed into the Doctor's socket, against his protestations.
"I can get you to the medical facilities, I promise. Just hold on until then -"
"No!" she spat as he tried to help/drag her to the door, "I don't have enough credits. They'd decline me."
"Well that's just stupid! What sort of doctors do you have here?"
"There is a way," Computer crooned, "to get all the credits she could possibly need. All you need to do is play a game. I'll even let you play against yourself so you are certain to win. I just want you to participate."
"And what game is this?" the Doctor demanded. Instead of Computer, the intern answered.
"It's the Data Debate. It's a trivia game where contestants debate their answers to subjective trivia questions."
"I can alter your perceptions and those of the audience to make you appear to be multiple people of different races and genders," Computer added.
"So, to save the day, I have to argue with myself...in drag." A smile crept over the Doctor's face, "then let's get started!" The game proceeded, and the Doctor won in a heated battle against himself. "Alright, I've played your game, won the credits, now I'm going to keep this girl from bleeding to death."
"Don't you mean you are going to keep the Doctor from bleeding to death?"
"What are you talking about, I am the Doc-" he paused because the voice coming out of his throat was female. He looked down at himself to see the hands and clothes of the intern. Looking to the corner of the room, the doctor lay unconscious in a small pool of blood from his eye.
"Okay, that's...weird."
"Or maybe you are the Doctor. I haven't decided yet who I want you to be. Do you understand now? No matter what you do, you have no way of knowing that it actually happened or where you are or who you are. The chip you implanted gives me absolute control over your senses and memories. What can you do?"
The Doctor/Intern was about, I'm sure, to come up with a snappy, inspiring answer that would put Computer in her place. However, my brain decided this was entirely too confusing for 4 in the morning, so it woke me up...or did it?
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