Chapter One; A NEW ENGLAND A portal in time and space opens a doorway between Twentieth Century Earth and a viciously mediaeval society in an alternate dimension. Emerging from this dimension are two sadistic figures who are perfectly at home in such an environment: Nicholas and Bradley… And so Andie Frankham kicks off his third season of Doctor Who adventures, and a rather fine one it looks to be. The Doctor’s return to Earth to encourage Alf to regain her memories allows Frankham to play in worlds he knows, describing London to its fullest extent, as Alf sets off on a search for her past. And it works very well. When new writers seek advice from professionals, one suggestion always brought up is to “write what you know”. Frankham is by no means a new writer, yet the expression still holds true. This is a London filled with real places, with sights, smells and sounds: the line, “Vibrant. Alive! Ah, London!” summing up the feeling of coming home. Details creep in, such as the foliage growing over the catacombs of Highgate Cemetery, or the tongue-in-cheek appearance of a certain public house, and it seems the author is in his element; this feeling shining through a magnificent opening chapter. The reader’s interest is piqued with the many mysteries on offer. The Prologue nicely sets up who the main guest characters are, but doesn’t quite explain why they are being such horrible bastards; later, the secrecy over Lady Dorothy’s “gift” to Nicholas is intriguing. Other mysteries - for instance, the identity of the man in the PVC outfit - litter the text; we jump from scene to scene, observer to observer, often with little explanation of where we are. It’s a successful technique, keeping us asking questions like the best Doctor Who should; indeed, sections of it reminded me of the recent discussions over the identity of The Auditor in Big Finish’s "Seasons of Fear" play. One also gets a conscious feeling of the setting up of the way the new season will run, with characters being moved into the right places on the chess board - as the Doctor says, “We shall return to the twenty-sixth century from time to time”. Frankham is perhaps not the most lyrical or poetic of writers, but reading this early chapter shows how much he has improved, certainly since the early days of season one. No longer is he the Terrance Dicks of 3a (not that this is a bad thing, of course), but he’s on his way to becoming the Donald Cotton, or perhaps the John Lucarotti or even David A McIntee. Most characters have their own viewpoints, their own thoughts and ideas, and the author should be applauded for attempting to change the points of view of various passages to add a personal interest. We are permitted to see the thoughts and motivations of the protagonists, one by one, and each individual thinks exactly how you might expect: thus, when the alternate Bradley comes face to face with “our” Nick, he refers to him as “the man wearing Nicholas’ face”, a wonderful insight into how you would react if you had to comprehend a similar circumstance. With three Alfs, two Nicks and a substitute Bradley knocking about, this delineation is essential. Occasionally he gets it wrong: it looks like Frankham has been watching too many episodes of "Bad Girls" when he has Ace exclaim, “We bunk out of here, innit?” followed closely by, “Alf felt like she was escaping from prison or something.” (Oh, and the Kuang-Shi come from a place called Larkhowl, which can’t be coincidence, can it?). Conversely, the scene in which Nicholas meets Alf for the first time is one of the finest passages of Frankham’s work I have read, reminiscent of one of my favourite pieces of fiction, Volume 2, Chapter III of Mary Shelley’s "Frankenstein", although even I admit that this is probably coincidence. Sadly, the one character exempt from all this character building is the Doctor himself. Once again, this Doctor seems undefined, merely a cipher for the hero we all know and love (I still can’t imagine Brian Blessed saying “okay” or “kind of”). Beyond poking his finger into a dimensional portal and getting it burnt, he has no eccentricities, conscious or otherwise, which is sad, considering he is he reason we are all here. In future, a few more scenes featuring him would not be rebuffed - give him something to do! However, as an atypical story featuring the Doctor’s friends at the forefront (for they do need developing, too, of course) this episode works wonderfully well. All in all, a fantastic yet believable start to the Season. Whilst perhaps difficult to review when read in isolation (try reviewing Underworld Part Three alone, frinstance!), this nifty episode certainly bodes well for the future. Lovely. Chapter Two; ENIGMATISM Our heroes are separated. A bloodthirsty Bradley is turned-on by Nick, before the bloodthirsty Bradley turns... on Nick. Alf goes home. But where is the Doctor? Recently, some lively, yet fun debates over on The Millennium People Forums regarding my review of Kuang-Shi Chapter One seem to suggest that I was a little harsh in declaring the Legacy Doctor as being without any eccentricities: or “Doctorly tics and grimaces” as I call them. For this reason, I’ve decided to temper my thoughts on this Doctor, and look at him in a different light during his appearances in this episode. Oh dear. In common with the early days of television Doctor Who, Andie Frankham is treating us to the ubiquitous “episode without the Doctor”. Now I’m not sure if Brian Blessed is off on holiday, but it’s an interesting experiment, well worth trying in the four-episode format of these Novellas (and please forgive me for using the word “episode” to describe these chapters - I’m afraid it’s ingrained in my fan consciousness). Whether the second episode of the Season is the place to do it remains undecided, but I think it works. The Doctor doesn’t appear in Chapter Two of Kuang-Shi. The story relies on his companions, Nick and Alf, as they each meet one of the Kuang-Shi who looks like a friend of theirs: Nick knows it isn’t really his friend, Alf doesn’t. The author again shows that each of his characters have their own viewpoints and thoughts, wonderfully adding some human interest to what could be a simple “I’m not who I say I am” story; Nicholas again coming out of it the best. The sequence in which he wanders around Ace’s living room shows him to be an authentic person; comparing the things he sees to his homeworld, Styria. He describes the warmth of the house, and the wonder of photographs - pictures that have not been painted. He also shows his boredom at being there, which is understandable, given that he is waiting for Alf to finish reliving her youth in order to get her alone. Some of the actual lines border on the cliché: “the world captured onto parchment by magic” comes close, but stays just the right side of formulaic; it is a credit to Frankham that he bothers to inject life into these supporting players. Oh, and while I’m talking about supporting players, the gorgeous detail of Bradley’s untouched cup of coffee deserves a mention: balancing out the not-so-good bit where Bradley doesn’t care that his alternative self is dead. I find this difficult to believe even for someone like Bradley. Alf fares well, her entire character being magnificently summed up by the short section where Nicholas finds a photo of her as a child, wearing both a pretty dress and a grimace: Alf would never dress like Melanie Bush. We get other nice hints to make her more real, too, such as the reappearance of Wayne, Ace’s toy dog from the Dragonfire novelisation. Also, her return home with Ace gives us a partial explanation of her dream in Chapter One, although the mention of her brother remains open-ended (something that Big Finish might be explaining soon, perhaps?). Still, there are bigger surprises in store for Ace and Alf... Frankham takes every opportunity to add something to the story: there’s a nice bit of parallel structuring when Nick wakes up with the sunlight above him, echoing a similar awakening of Alf in Chapter One. He also seems to be adding a bit of social commentary in places - there’s a bit I should have mentioned in Chapter One where Nicholas “wanted to go over and introduce himself, but she had looked directly at him and that made him turn away” which certainly sounds familiar to me; here, Nicholas is “not at all surprised by the way the people [on the train] ignored each other”, and when Bradley’s clothes get a few curious glances, “once Bradley returned the stares the people soon looked away.” The line about “faggots and gay freaks” is another, more personal example. What is the author trying to say about us mere mortals? < And so we come to the end of the Chapter, which, frankly, is a bit of a waste. There is what should have been a splendid double cliffhanger, when the identities of both the Kuang-Shi and the mysterious people following Nick are revealed, but both revelations are given away much earlier in dialogue, and are easily deduced right back in Chapter One. The redeeming feature regarding the people following Nick is that the last word of the Chapter isn’t given away until the last word of the Chapter, which might just about keep their identity secret, but why take the risk? Imagine the power of revealing both the Millennium People and the vampires together: but how many times is the word “blood” mentioned in Chapter Two? Why must we have Bradley licking Nick’s wounds pages before he is revealed as a vampire? This is a sad waste of such a beautiful premise. And I wouldn’t normally reveal spoilers like that in my review, but as everyone must have guessed them anyway by this point, I’m not altogether sure they are spoilers. There are still some fun moments in this Chapter (although those of us who insist that Ace’s surname was “Gale” as originally intended, could be a tad disappointed!). Knowing that Frankham is a fan of "The League of Gentlemen", I might almost suspect the line, “All heads in the cafe turned,” was an homage to Les McQueen from that programme, but that’s probably just me. I also want to know the next two words in Alf’s “Blue Peter” line! Overall, whilst the constant mis-spelling of the word “blond” could annoy, this is mostly a nice episode; cliffhanger aside, it doesn’t let us down after Chapter One. Oh, and the almost offhand, casual death of a major character must have repercussions… Chapter Three; BORN OF FRUSTRATION In which the Doctor returns and learns what Counts, And as Alf is tortured, the tension mounts… It is often said by Doctor Who writers that Episode Three is perhaps the most difficult to write - that awkward stage between set-up / complication and climax / resolution. Different writers interpret this third episode in different ways - to take an example, The Romans famously turns into a comedy during its third part; conversely, Terry Nation usually stops bothering by this point. Kuang-Shi follows the Castrovalva format, setting off in a new direction, and providing some perfectly timed exposition on the way. But does it work? The Doctor is back after an episode away, and I’m a bit confused by him. Following my comments in the Chapter One review about the Doctor having few foibles, it has been suggested that each Doctor Who author brings something of themselves to the Doctor they create - they write about what he means for them: which is fine, as it adds vital personal interest to a story. By extension it must apply to a reader and reviewer, too. But the “Frankham Doctor” confuses me greatly. I was sure whilst reading this that the Doctor I know had returned. He gets the single best line of any Doctor Who: 3a story I have yet read, when he meets young Ephan for the first time; plus he says general Doctorly things like, “I happen to think that all life is important,” and, “You can trust me. I can help your people.” He also has particularly “Brian Blessed Doctor” lines such as, “Good, about time we had something to eat”; but he is perhaps best viewed through the eyes of Ephan, his temporary companion, who begins as a terrified, disconsolate boy, and, via the influence of the Doctor, soon becomes a confident, self-assured young man with a glimmer of hope. This is a Doctor I recognise: lighting the way forward and giving faith where before there was none. And yet, suddenly, the Doctor kills a Kuang-Shi and transforms into “Blessed the Vampire Slayer”; a big, scary killing machine that seems to think he’s just walked out of "Die Hard" or something. Remember that bit in the 1996 TV Film when the Doctor commandeers the policeman’s motorbike not by pointing the gun at the policeman, but by turning it on himself? That’s what makes the Doctor special - and yet here, he seems more likely to shoot the policeman first and ask for the bike later. A Doctor who does what needs to be done to help people could be a legitimate excuse, were it not for the fact that after the Doctor condemns the vampire to her Second (nice touch!) Death, both he and Ephan specifically stand and watch whilst the flames torturing the burning vampire die down, and her charred corpse falls to the floor. Our hero (!) then tries to apologise by saying that “taking a life is never a good thing”, which is rather like claiming, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to murder her...” Try that one in court! This completely new Doctor’s personality can again be seen through his influence on Ephan, who “glanced back at the burnt cadaver and smiled,” as they left. This is not the Doctor. In time, the identity of the Count is revealed. I’ll admit, it wasn’t who I thought it would be, and lack of predictability can only be a good thing. Given the scant description of the Count and his relationship with Lady Dorothy, I was fully expecting the Count to be a parallel version of the only character not to already have an alternate self appear: the Doctor. Instead, Frankham nicely ties up some loose ends from long ago, showing that he is not prepared to throw away useful ideas. Overall, though, the Styria plot is slow and uninspiring, a retread of events in previous Doctor Who stories, and elsewhere: nothing new. After the superb opening two Chapters, this is a disappointment, and there’s a feeling that the author is on autopilot, with some dodgy retconning in order (“You killed one of your own, allowed me to dispose of two others, just to infect me?”). There’s some fun to be had on the way: quite how long sixteen year old boy Ephan remains naked is not made clear, his cloth falling the first time he stands up, so presumably also the second; and the scene where the Count pours a drink for the Doctor must be a joke. Frankham also answers many of the questions I thought were going to be left unsolved, such as why the Kuang-Shi have a Chinese name, and why Bradley and Nicholas were sent to the Doctor in the first episode. The reason the Kuang-Shi have torches in their homes is also given, albeit slightly clumsily: but it’s lucky that someone *cough* pointed it out to Andie to insert an explanation at all *ahem*. The finest section of the Chapter is that on Earth, as Nicholas tortures Alf. Following the episode without the Doctor, we now get the episode without Nick, as only his alternate self appears, wanting to thank Lady Dorothy for her “gift”, but mistaking Alf for her. The surprise that the gift was a Bobbit makes a mockery of the wonderful prologue and the implied tortures therein, but the rest of this sequence is lovely. I had started to believe that Nicholas is nothing more than a randy sod who gets the chance to lay a woman who looks like the woman he fancies (and would any of us do any different, I wonder?): but that’s not what’s going on at all. These sections are well done: you really believe Alf is in danger of being tortured by an increasingly insane Nicholas. I’d like to see a successful Chapter Four that focuses more on these sequences than the unoriginal Styria plot. Taken as a whole, this episode feels like Frankham is trying to get to the end of his story as quickly as possible. Gone are the magnificent sections with the world seen through different people’s eyes, pieces that have had a bit of thought and some real writing talent put into them; for now most of the plot takes place from a standard third-party viewpoint, which is a shame. Unbalanced. Chapter Four; A HARD DAY'S NIGHT Conflict! An evil mastermind! Torture to endure! And that’s just the reviews… Well, now. After four weeks, Kuang-Shi ends. And I’m a bit sad to see it go. Now, I know what you’re all thinking, and it’s this: is the Doctor any good in the final part? Chapter Four sees our hero continue down the path laid out for him in Chapter Three, becoming (no pun intended) a leader of a violent group of hardcore rebels. Unfortunately, Brian Blessed as Bruce Willis is a thought too terrible to bear, so it is lucky that Frankham at last tempers the Doctor with moments of compassion. On the surface, the Doctor has become little more than a standard action hero, indulging in killing and despair in a way evocative of the worst Doctor Who story ever, Resurrection of the Daleks. However, the Doctor is now experiencing flashes of (for want of a better word) humanity, feeling that he doesn’t quite know how he has come to be stuck in the middle of this hugely violent conflict, let alone leading it - and this is how the Doctor should be in such a situation. There’s a wonderful couple of paragraphs at the bottom of Page One in which the Doctor tries to quantify that he is forced to do what he does here because he doesn’t want to lose any more companions, as he lost Brad; showing that events of the previous seasons have taken their toll; the character has evolved. The sheer fact his mind so much as suggests he could have left Ephan at the mercy of the vampires reflects this hitherto unthinkable change to the Doctor. Back in Season One of these adventures, Niall Turner’s story Cutting the Threads featured an alternative fifth Doctor whose life had become one long tale of death and destruction. This Doctor was a war-weary Dalek-killer: “our” Doctor reacting to him with the memorable line, “That is not me! That isn’t me!” - the idea that such a battle-hardened character could be the Doctor unimaginable. And yet here it happens, the Doctor doing his familiar Planet of the Spiders Rebels-v-Evil routine: but here taken to the Nth Degree. The actual rebellion plot has been done many, many times, but never to this extent. Unfortunately, the resolution to the rebellion happens “off-screen”, after our hero has gone, leading to an unsatisfying conclusion, as we haven’t actually experienced ourselves the defeat of the enemy (although it could be a set up for a sequel). The other two plot threads running through Chapter Four are both much more original and intriguing. Whilst Nick’s return to the Millennium People’s Forum World has little relation to the plot of this episode, it is a necessary characterisation piece, and no doubt will prove vital to the coming Season (and if nothing else, it’s nice to see a return of the two best alien races Doctor Who 3a has created). One thing I have noticed about Frankham’s best work is that he seems to have a wonderful eye for the visual - there’s a gorgeous image here of the auburn-haired Goddess of Dreamers sitting cross-legged on a cloud, with daisies in her hair. Alf, meanwhile, continues to be my favourite ­Legacy­ character. Whether or not it’s because we have actually seen her on television, I’m not sure, but she seems so real. She endures some terrible horrors at the hands of Nicholas in this episode, Frankham again pushing the boundaries of what he can do with Doctor Who­, and yet Alf reacts how you would expect her to react. After she has taken advantage of the fiction constant that no captor can adequately tie up their prisoner so that they won’t escape, she is forced into a chase around London, in which the author appears to be playing "Mornington Crescent" with his characters. Then Alf kills Nicholas - and in the best traditions of James Bond, after his master: this is unfinished business. The final meeting between Nicholas and Alf is brilliantly done, the tears welling up in Alf’s eyes as Nicholas still refuses to recognise that it wasn’t her who emasculated him. She takes revenge for what he has done to her; and after what she has been through, I’m not sure I wouldn’t do any differently - her feelings are running high; the tears in her eyes perfect. There are a couple of small moments that should’ve been sorted out in editing: “they had left the castle without incident” being one of them, especially given that the Doctor has just attacked the Kuang-Shi’s leader and killed three of their number; also, let’s have a big hand for that old favourite, “I’ll explain later”. These are easily balanced out by some of the other wordplay bits, though - for instance, both Ephan and Nick using the phrase, “Who else would it be?” lends a nice bit of parallel structure between plotlines. Overall Kuang-Shi is a game of two halves. The first two Chapters are a well-written insight, featuring individual views into the minds of the characters taking part in the story. However, Frankham seems a little ill at ease with the new length imposed by virtue of the novella format, and his story gives the impression of running out of steam toward the end, as if the author was rushing to complete. However, the earlier sections more than make up for it, and this is easily one of Frankham’s best stories yet. Perhaps his impending collaborative adventures will showcase his skill even better. He is fast becoming an excellent writer, and under his increasingly mature leadership, The Legacy can only get better; if he personally continues this way, it surely can’t be long before his dream of some published work arrives. Perhaps a little bit more time and care could be spent towards editing: for instance, the phrase “vanished in a puff of illogic” appears twice in the finished narrative for no apparent reason; although Andie’ll probably tell me he did that on purpose. He just about gets away with it. Also, whilst some might say that dodgy cliffhanger resolutions are a staple of Doctor Who, one feels this author could do slightly better. Most of these are merely minor things, easily sorted with a bit of care and attention. One thing is certain: it was wonderful. A last point: As creator of this series, Frankham could do well to remember that the Doctor is the reason we are all here; at the moment, he, like perhaps most writers, is content to play with the characters he himself has created. One could easily see Frankham “doing a Bernice” at some point in the future (not that he’d have to, of course); although it is a credit to him that he has resisted the urge to regenerate the Doctor again for the purposes of a thoughtless shock cliffhanger. A game of two halves.