Chapter One
The Skull out of Time
Things were quiet in the middle of the night, a few miles from the Washington Monument, near an old brick apartment building. Only the rats moved at this hour in this part of town. They rooted around for pieces of trash without any fear of violence; humans had much more to fear from each other than the rats did.
There began a sound somewhere between that of a siren and a very slow propeller. The humming, wailing sound didn't frighten off the rats. They continued snuffling along the ground, relying more on smell than anything else. Their weak eyes didn't pay much attention to the blue light which began fading in and out a few seconds later. But when the inconstant image resolved into a blue solid labelled "POLICE BOX: PUBLIC CALL," and the light became steady, they scattered, looking for shelter in the shadows created by the light from the TARDIS.
Rose and the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS with easy smiles. The Doctor fidgeted with his black jacket as Rose looked about. She swung the bag she was carrying, a black bag used by doctors from a previous time to carry all of their medical instruments.
"Looks like it worked," she said. "Washington, D.C., after all. And I'd say we haven't missed the time by much."
"Just ten or fifteen years after we last saw Jackie, I'd say," the Doctor replied. "Right on time! That's a nice change," he added, directing a petulant smile at the machine behind them. "Well, come on then! We've got to get that thing to my colleague as soon as we can!"
"I know," said Rose with a groan, almost collapsing with pretended exhaustion at his insistence. The Doctor made an unexpectedly quick and intent motion to catch her. For a moment, the smile had faded from his face.
Rose smirked at him. "A fall won't kill me, y'know," she said, winking at him.
"I know," said the Doctor. Rose then noticed that his eyes were on the black bag. It occurred to her that his eyes probably had been on it the whole time.
Rose looked at the bag and asked, "D'you really think this is important enough to stop what you're doing and go back three thousand years?"
"Think about what we know," he said, holding out his hands as if he were going to grab her head and transfer the thoughts to her. "We're on a planet inhabited by no living creatures but giant butterflies, thousands of years in the future, and on that planet we find a human skull. And not just any human skull, but the skull of a human that definitely came from Earth. And not just any human that came from Earth, but a human from this year. That skull was thousands of years old when we found it, but Earth won't develop the engines powerful enough for that kind of space travel until a time later than the time we found the skull!"
Rose shrugged. "So, it fell through a crack in time or something."
"What, without any other artifacts of any kind? Nothing but a few human skeletons, no rubble, no spaceships, nothing else?" Rose didn't have a reply. "No, Rose. They didn't fall. They were pushed. Somebody put those humans into a space portal, and I want to know why."
"And you think we'll figure out who did it and why…if we go visit your friend?"
"I don't have any better ideas. I've never seen a wound like the one on that skull. Doesn't fit any weapon I've seen before. The person we're visiting is what you might call a specialist. She knows more about death and bones than most people, human or not. And if that human was killed before he was shoved through the space portal, then she might be able to find out who he is."
"Why's it so important? So what if some bloke and his mates get killed this year?"
"That's not the most important part. The space portal sent those humans to the butterfly planet this year. They weren't just killed this year; they were transported this year."
Rose's eyes widened in comprehension. "Somebody on Earth has the space portal."
"Which hasn't been invented yet."
"Someone mucking about with aliens?"
The Doctor grinned. "That's what we're going to find out."
Dr. Temperance Brennan was leaning over a very small, mummified skeleton placed on a table. Next to the skeleton lay some weapons and jewelry made of bronze. She kept shifting her gaze between the skeleton and one of the weapons, a large curved sword.
"Assessment?" she asked.
Camille Saroyan raised her eyebrows and smiled a little. "He's dead?"
"Victim died of wounds caused by this weapon," Temperance said, pointing at the weapon she had been examining.
"Okay," Camille said slowly.
"The interesting part is that the victim was buried with this weapon. It's his own weapon."
"Why think it's his weapon? Maybe it was included in his burial for some other reason."
"Inconsistent with local practice. The victim would have had no possessions but his own in the grave. He had to meet death with what he had gained for himself. Taking someone else's possessions with him would be cheating."
"Right. So, the question is why would the weapon that killed him be buried with him?"
"It's puzzling. If the people who buried him knew that it was the one that killed him."
"How could they not?" Temperance didn't respond. "You think this was a murder? That the killer covered up his murder and made it look like some other kind of death?"
"I wouldn't like to commit myself to a premature conclusion."
"Of course. Um, why did you want my opinion?"
Temperance looked up and took a short breath before replying. "You were standing nearby, and I thought that conversation would be an acceptable way to make you feel included."
"So, you didn't actually need my opinion?"
"A second opinion is always valuable."
Camille smiled again. Temperance smiled too, because she assumed that the smile was a straightforward indication of pleasure. After a moment, though, when Camille's face didn't alter, Temperance began to suspect that some subtler social maneuver was going on.
Booth's voice saved either woman from the need to redeem the situation. "Hey, Bones, I have a case for you."
"Booth, yes, what is it?" she asked eagerly. "Will I need a gun?"
"What? No, gosh, what is it with you and guns? Straightforward homicide, but we don't know who did it and we don't know what the weapon was."
"You don't have the weapon?"
"We don't even know what the weapon was."
"I wouldn't expect you to," Temperance said dispassionately.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Anyway, you gotta come take a look right away and leave the mummies for a grad student."
"I'll be there in a moment." She was already walking toward her office, removing her rubber gloves. She had been looking back at Booth so that he would hear her. When she turned back around, she stopped quickly to avoid running into a tall man in black.
"Oop! Sorry about that," he said brightly, a huge smile on his face. "Tempe, how have you been?"
Temperance opened her mouth for a moment before any sound came out. "Doctor! I—This is—How did you get in?"
"Special clearance. Favor I did a while ago for the director. Special consultant." He tapped a name tag on his jacket. It said "Special Consultant" but did not include a name.
A blond woman rushed out of the door which the Doctor had rushed through a few seconds ago. She was wearing a bright pink jacket, tight jeans, and a tight shirt. Temperance didn't recognize her. She was surprised that such an unscholarly-looking woman could be another special consultant. It wasn't the blond woman's clothing that made Temperance think this; it was her manner. The woman looked more like a risk-taker: something like a stunt driver or a base jumper.
"Is this your friend, then?" she asked. Temperance guessed that her accent belonged to a lower-class area in London.
"Yeah," said the Doctor. "Rose, this is Dr. Temperance Brennan. Tempe, this is Rose Tyler."
"Pleased to meet you," said Rose, holding out her hand.
Temperance took it and felt her hand jerked up and down by Rose, like the handle of some important pump on an old ship. "Likewise."
Then she turned back to the Doctor. "It's been a few years. Do you require help with your research?"
"Oh, do I ever! You're not going to believe this, Tempe! Rose, the bag please."
Rose handed him an old black medical bag. Temperance wondered what he could be carrying in such an outdated vessel. Once the Doctor had the bag, he started walking toward the lab area where Camille and Booth stood. They had been whispering to each other. Rose guessed from their expressions that neither of them had met the Doctor.
The Doctor set the bag down on a table like the one which held the skeleton and the old weapons. Meanwhile, Temperance tried to introduce him.
"Booth, Cam, this is…the Doctor. Doctor, this is Seeley Booth and Camille Saroyan. Agent Booth is from the FBI, and Doctor Saroyan works with us at the Jeffersonian."
The Doctor once again assumed a huge grin and said, "Pleasure! Always good to see law enforcement at work, utilizing science to bring more justice to the world. Marvelous! Simply marvelous!"
Camille looked amused and perplexed. Booth frowned slightly and said, "Hey, uh, Doctor…Doctor what?"
"Oh, just 'Doctor' is fine, thanks."
"Yeah, but how exactly can you be a special consultant if nobody knows your name? How do they put you in the records?"
"Oh, they manage. I'm in untold numbers of records."
"I met the Doctor at an excavation of a Sumerian city," said Temperance. "He proved astoundingly helpful at conjecturing the use of some previously unseen tools."
"Oh, you're pretty astounding yourself, Tempe. And now look at you! Doing the same work, only this time you get to help the survivors of those who died. I couldn't be prouder. But we really don't have all that much time, we never do, and I want to get your opinion about this."
As he finished speaking, the Doctor opened his bag. Camille and Temperance stepped closer to look into the bag. Booth kept his place, crossing his arms and continuing to frown at the Doctor. Rose already knew what was in the bag, so she watched the people. She didn't notice how much of her time was spent watching Booth rather than the women. It wasn't entirely because of his looks. She was shrewd enough to focus on the person who seemed most suspicious of some unannounced visitors.
Meanwhile, the Doctor put his hand into the bag and took out a human skull. It was clearly very old. Temperance gasped a bit when she saw it.
"Doctor," she said, "this should have been transported in something much more secure. I have to admit, the casual way you treated this relic is…well, appalling."
"Sorry about that, I had to improvise a bit. But this old bag's not quite as unsecured as it looks, believe me. Now, what do you think about it?"
Temperance found a pair of gloves nearby and quickly put them on. Then, she took the skull from the Doctor's bare hands. She held it expertly and brought it up to her face. She didn't say anything for a full minute.
"It's very old. Three thousand years?"
"Just about. Any ideas about the markings on it?"
Temperance focused on the forehead. Something had pierced the skull and had left a small slot. There were odd grooves radiating from the slot. They formed a grim starburst, a nearly perfect spiral of lines that made the slot look like the hole in the bottom of a bone sink.
"Definitely sufficient to cause death. Either that or some kind of ritual carving, maybe."
"I did a little investigating, too. It was definitely cause of death." The Doctor waited for her to say something in reply.
"But the carving surrounding the wound puzzles me. So does the delicateness of the instrument. Whatever pierced this skull was very narrow, probably metal, but I can't think of any weapon with this fine a point from the time this wound would have been made. Except maybe an arrowhead."
"But it was no arrowhead," said the Doctor.
"No, definitely not."
"So you don't know what it was?"
"Do you have any theories?"
The Doctor met her eyes for a moment. He seemed to be gauging something. He looked at Booth and Camille with the same careful look. Then, disappointingly, he said, "Not a clue." There was silence for a moment again, as each of them tried to judge whether he had lied. Rose was trying to judge, too.
"Okay, wait a minute," Booth said. He walked up until he stood abreast of Temperance. "Let me see that."
"Booth, this skull is ancient and delicate. It can't be handled by laypersons."
"I don't want to touch it, I just want to look at it. Let me see that."
Temperance lifted the skull again and moved it toward Booth. His mouth opened a little as he concentrated, and he leaned in to look at the skull. Then he straightened up and looked at the Doctor.
"Where did you get this?" All of them were startled by his tone. Quite suddenly, he sounded less like Temperance's protective friend. He sounded like Special Agent Booth, gathering information about a federal crime.
"Excavation site," said the Doctor. "Quite far from here. Different, er, continent."
"Booth, what is it?"
"Bones. That's the same wound found on the skull I wanted you to look at. The one I came to talk to you about."
"Where was this skull?" the Doctor asked. "Was this a recent death?"
"Hold on, buddy," said Booth. "You're not a special consultant anymore. You're more like a suspect."
"Booth, don't be ridiculous. The Doctor's skull is over three thousand years old. It couldn't have been affected by the same person who killed the victim you want me to examine."
Booth said, "Something weird is going on here. I've never seen marks like this before, and I've seen plenty of bodies. Flesh peeled, maybe burned, off of the face, sliced along the same lines as the lines on this skull. With a little hole in the middle of the forehead. What are we dealing with, time travel? One of Hodgins's cults?"
Temperance said, "I couldn't possibly know. I didn't see the wounds until five minutes ago. But we need to be objective about this. We need to find out what caused the wounds, but it won't help if we start suspecting archeologists who bring me ancient skulls to examine for academic purposes."
"Where is this body you just found?" asked the Doctor again.
"None of your business, pal. Even if you're not a suspect, you're not a federal agent."
"Neither is she!" said the Doctor indignantly, pointing at Temperance.
"She's a special consultant."
"So am I!"
"Just why are you so eager to see the body, anyway?"
The Doctor looked shocked by the question. "Academic reasons! If your body has the same wounds as my skull, then there might be some connection in the weapon used. It could shed light on my research."
This time, nobody except Rose even suspected that he was lying.
He went on, "Did you say the flesh was burned off along this pattern? Was it peeled back or just sort of shriveled up?"
"Look, it's an ongoing federal investigation, I can't divulge that kind of information. So just rest easy, okay?"
"Booth, he has legitimate scientific reasons for asking. Are you sure he can't come along for the investigation?"
"Some special archeologist who doesn't even have a name wants to tag along on a criminal investigation? Oh, what was I thinking? Come right along! Of course he can't come."
"But I can vouch for him. He might be able to help determine the nature of the weapon used. If he's been researching a similar phenomenon, then he might have insights which it would take us a long time to reach."
"We don't even know his name!"
Rose spoke up. "Jack," she said. Everyone looked at her. They had almost forgotten the girl in pink. "He's Doctor Jack Harkness."
Booth looked quickly from the Doctor to Rose. "That's his real name?"
Rose hesitated for only a second. Agent Booth was even more keen than she's figured. "Course it's his real name! Why would I make it up?"
Temperance joined in. "Booth, you're being excessively suspicious. We'll keep a close watch on him while he's at the crime scene. He won't take any evidence."
"That's not what I'm worried about. The victim wasn't just some ordinary Joe. This would be a federal crime no matter where it happened."
"Why? Who is it?" Camille asked.
"Look, I don't have the authority to tell any of you anything about this. Not that that would stop me usually, but my boss just stressed how sensitive the case is and now total strangers want in on it."
"Well, if you want my help I insist that you let Doctor…Harkness come too," said Temperance.
"You're serious?"
She nodded.
Booth sighed. "Okay, I'll call my boss. I'm going to order a search for Jack Harkness in our databases."
"Oh, you won't find anything," the Doctor said. "I'm a good boy."
"You'd better hope so, pal. Come on, we might as well head toward the crime scene."
They walked away from the lab, leaving Camille shaking her head. Booth pulled out his phone. Rose and the Doctor walked a little behind the other two. Each gave the other a look which advised caution.