This story is part of the Diverging Timelines series and features original character Galadriel Thatcher and Quantum Leap character Sam Beckett. It occurs after chapter 7 of Book 4 in the series but was diverted into a separate story as it slowed the pace of the main story of the saga.
To summarize the situation, the Doctor traveled to the Seven Cities of the Great Meridian Conglomeration in order to obtain medicine for Zante's Bronchial Influenza, which Sam caught on a previous journey. While obtaining the medicine, the Doctor discovered that Glad had disappeared and is now on a search for her as he was unable to find her immediately.
Diverging Timelines: Shattered in the Dust
(Book 4A)
"Your idol is shattered in the dust to prove that God's dust is greater than your idol." - Rabindranath Tagore
Chapter 1
"Pelz, I need your help."
It wasn't often that the Doctor needed help and even less often that he admitted it aloud. The events of that day, however, had led him into the heart of Glant City, the main metropolis of the Seven Cities of the Great Meridian Conglomeration, to a man he'd known many years and two regenerations before. It was fortunate that he was in the proper time to find him again.
He had found the man in the basement room... calling it an apartment would have been exaggerating its function... where he had hidden with the other man after breaking out of jail. That had been a pivotal time when the military had attempted a coup to take over the GMC. Pelz had fought beside him as he'd done what he could to bring the rightful government back to power. He'd just burst in, declaring his need as he did so, slamming the door behind him and causing the man jump out of a cot and onto the floor, clearly startled by the sudden interruption in his sleep pattern.
"What the hell?" complained the tall, wiry red-haired man with freckles that numbered like the Milky Way.
"I need your help, Pelz," the Doctor repeated.
"Who are you and what are you doing here?" Pelz was feeling for his weapon, which he always kept under the thin mattress within reach.
"You know this city better than the Governor herself." He scrunched his nose slightly. "Not that the Governor really knows much about this city, considering its size." He nodded towards the mattress. "And you can leave the gun. I never have liked guns."
"How do you know I have a gun here?" the man asked. He finally had it and pulled it up. "I'm going to ask again, and this time I suggest you tell me. Who are you?"
"I'm the Doctor." His voice indicated that he expected the answer to be obvious to him.
"The Doctor?" Pelz stated with confusion. "Can't be. The Doctor was a Time Lord and, from what I understand, they're gone."
"Not all of them," the Gallifreyan replied, his voice soft as he considered the reality Pelz had proclaimed.
The local man observed the stranger, reading in his eyes the pain that accompanied the statement. His response acknowledged the words with a tone that showed his empathy to the pain. "I'm glad to hear that at least some have survived but..." He looked the man up and down. "I'm sorry, but you're not Joniah Smyt."
"Oh! The face! Right. I did look quite a bit different the last time you saw me. Long curly hair, blue eyes... Was very fond of the Edwardian era. Wore a cravat! You'd never catch me in a cravat these days." He paused, reminiscing. "Blimey, that was... a long time ago. Well, for me, anyway. For you, it was about four cycles ago."
"What are you talking about?" the ginger man asked, looking at him again. "Even plastic surgery isn't this good. Body shape's all different. The voice is totally wrong."
"What's wrong with this accent? I'm rather fond of this accent. Well, I liked my Liverpool accent when I had it but still..." He noted the way Pelz seemed to tense, ready to shoot him at a moment's notice. "You fire that thing and you'll know exactly why I look different. I'll change right in front of you. And I'd rather not give up a life just yet, especially when my companion doesn't know about regeneration." He paused. "And neither do you. Well... this is awkward. Probably should have told you about that. But I thought you knew about it since you knew what a Time Lord was. And I am the Doctor. Honest."
Pelz wavered. "Well, you don't sound or look like him, but you really have the manic... insanity that isn't done well. What's all this about regeneration?"
"My people have a way of cheating death, sort of. If it seems as if I'm about to die, I can change every cell in my body, thus preventing my death and changing my appearance. And as I said before, I'd rather not change my appearance any time soon, especially since I have so very few regenerations left - I only have twelve total and I've already used nine. So I would greatly appreciate if you would put that thing away. Besides, you don't really want to shoot ol' Smytty, do you?"
Pelz blinked at the use of the name. A smile curled on his face. "Okay. If you really are Smytty, tell me what happened to the Purple Flame of Zarkar."
"That little bauble?" the Doctor questioned with a grin. "You were trying to sell it to get money to buy food for the Resistance and we both wound up being arrested for it, even though I was just shopping. Talk about being in the wrong place at the right time."
"Smytty!" Pelz exclaimed. "I'm not really sure about this regeneration thing, but you're definitely him! How the hell are you?"
"Not bad myself. And you?" He pointed to the gun in his friend's hand. "You might want to put that away."
"Oh, yeah," Pelz said, looking down at the weapon. "Sorry. Old war habit. You've got to admit, if you'd been in my shoes, you would have felt the need to protect yourself."
"I don't use guns," the Doctor told him bluntly, his face quite serious. "I don't resort to violence unless absolutely necessary. You know that."
"Yeah, but..." the red-haired man started. Seeing the look on the Doctor's face, he decided it wasn't worth the argument, "...I'm not a Time Lord. We simple folk have to handle things the best way we can." He put the gun away quickly.
"Thank you," the Gallifreyan told him, seeing the gun was placed out of sight.
"So... you say you need my help. What's the caper?"
"We aren't stealing the Diamond Sapphire of Alnaz from the Grenaldi brothers... assuming you've gone back to your previous profession," the Doctor teased him in their old familiar pattern as he sat on a dilapidated chair.
"No, haven't done that since the Purple Flame. Meeting you changed my point of view about a lot of things. I'm a private eye now. Not much business recently though."
"You think?" came another teasing response as the Gallifreyan gestured to his surroundings.
"Not my fault. The new government's putting in some licensure requirements that I'm on the wrong side of at the moment. Makes it a bit hard to be respectable." He paused. "You wouldn't happen to have 10,000 krekkers on you? I'd pay you back... eventually."
"Ouch. Steep."
"Why do you think I'm living here again?"
"I thought it was for the ambiance."
"Well, there is that," Pelz shot back. "Seriously, though... you said you need my help. What's up?"
"A friend of mine has been abducted."
"Abducted?" Pelz responded with a raise of his eyebrow. He considered the Doctor's words. "I haven't heard anything along that line. Kidnapping carries the sentence of forty cycles. It's not a crime that's seen much recently, especially since we're still rebuilding from the war."
"Even stranger is that she's never been here before today." The Time Lord reached into his pocket and pulled out the broken music box, tossing it to Pelz. "Apparently, whoever took her used phenix acid to subdue her. And quickly, too. I was across the street and didn't hear or see a thing."
Pelz sniffed the wood. "That's phenix acid for sure." He was thoughtful as well. "A she?" An idea popped up. "How old?"
"Sixteen Earth years. That would be about fifteen cycles old here." He proceeded to give Pelz a detailed description of Glad.
"Could be a victim of the human trafficking trade," Pelz commented, having considered the Doctor's description.
The Doctor stiffened noticeably at his words. "When did the Seven Cities develop human trafficking?"
"It's been there forever. Black market kind of sales. Nothing 'official.'" A few seconds went by as he considered how to describe it better. "People always need 'assistants' and some are willing to bend others to those needs."
"And the government just turn their back." The Doctor took a deep breath. "What kind of 'assistants?'"
"Well, various types," Pelz said, thinking. "Some manual labor, domestic work, and restaurants but sex is usually what they're nabbed for."
"I need to find her. Where could I find her if she was taken to be sold into slavery?"
Pelz took a breath. He looked down for a moment. "There are some people I might be able to talk to. Don't know if it will help or not, but it might generate a lead. Can you give me a day?"
"I'm not good with waiting."
"You might check at the market. Sometimes you hear some snippets."
"I already tried there." The alien exhaled slowly, now slumping in the chair, despair setting in. "She's sixteen, Pelz. Sixteen. Still just a child. And here I come along, take her away from her home to show her the universe... and wind up causing her to be nabbed by slave traders."
"You don't know that for sure," Pelz started, realizing too late that the other possibility was even more dire.
"Why else would she have been taken?" The Doctor shook his head. "It's my fault she's missing. I should have kept a closer eye on her."
"Well, you might want to check the market again, especially now. The official market is closed but the one you're interested in is just getting started."
"Meaning the black market."
"Exactly. New stuff is always showing, if you know what I mean. Just be careful." When the Doctor gave him a look that said he didn't need such a warning, Pelz clarified. "I know you're good but there were some that came out of the war more vicious than black phleepers. So watch yourself."
"I'll walk through it on the way back to my ship. And I'll be careful."
Pelz nodded before getting up and putting on his jacket. "Well, if I'm going to help you, no time like the present. You have a way for me to contact you if I get a lead?"
"My ship is about a twentieth of a day from here towards the east. Just go up and knock on the door."
"You still riding around in that blue box?"
The Doctor gave him a slight smile. "Wouldn't give her up for the universe."
"Yeah, well. Seems a bit small to me."
"Says the man living in a 10 by 10 room in the basement of a warehouse."
"Hey, it's bigger than your place." Pelz gestured to the door, locking it as they exited to the hallway.
"Oh, you'd be surprised," the Gallifreyan told him as they walked. He knew that Pelz, when he'd met him in his 8th incarnation, had never even seen the inside of the TARDIS. Stopping at the stairs, he turned to the private eye. "Thank you," he said sincerely. Then without another word, he bounded up, finding his way out of the warehouse. Having an excellent sense of direction - despite what some of his companions might say - he went into a brisk walk towards his ship.
An hour later, he found himself wandering the same market that he had before, only this time it was different. The lack of sunlight seemed to have transformed the area from a bustling commerce district reminiscent of 21st century London to the East End of that same city in the late 19th century. Throughout the market area, there were females of various species tempting customers to avail themselves of their sordid services. One in particular tried to draw the Time Lord's attentions and became upset when he brushed her off.
"What's the matter with you, you notrisz? Don't you like the ladies? If you like it the other way, you're in the wrong part of the market," she sneered at him loudly.
He ignored the jibe, waving a hand as he continued through the market, his eyes searching. "Where are you, Glad?" he murmured after a long moment, paying no attention to the odd glances he was earning. He sniffed, looking across the street at one of denizens of the seedy underbelly of Glant trying to sell what were likely counterfeit goods. He frowned slightly, his eyes focused on the object around the man's neck.
He ran across through the billowing crowd, yanking the object off of the man, who complained angrily. The Gallifreyan examined it with wide eyes. "Where did you get this?" he demanded, holding up the necklace, which sported a large pendant with the Eye of Horus emblazoned upon it.
"I bought it," the man said snidely, snatching it back. "That's what I do. Buy things and then sell them. It's called running a business."
The alien grabbed it back again. "But who sold you this? When? What did he look like?"
The man snatched it from his hands again. "Do you want to buy this trinket? If you do, I'll be happy to part with it for the right price. As to where I bought it, it's a one of a kind. A young man said it was his grandmother's and they needed the cash to buy her medicine. Real gold, it is. Has some kind of inlaid stone and I'm not really sure what the jewel is. Might just be cut glass but I don't think so."
"And you honestly believed that story?"
"Doesn't matter if I believe it or not, now does it. I'm sure it's real gold. Tested it myself. Like I say, I don't know what the jewel is but it doesn't appear to be glass."
The Gallifreyan considered briefly about pulling out his psychic paper and using some coercion to obtain the necklace from the hooligan but quickly tossed the idea from his mind. While there were instances when impersonating authority figures were to his advantage, he didn't think it would be a good idea in the middle of a black market which the government basically allowed as long as the non-violent criminal element remained non-violent. "Fine. How much?" he relented.
"50,000 krekkers." The man watched as the Time Lord pulled out a Platernian card. "Yeah, right! You think I'm stupid? I want coin and paper."
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "I don't carry cash. Who carries cash these days?"
"You must be an ofenvorldkin. Let me clue you in... when you come to this market, that's all anyone takes. No cash, no necklace. Simple as that."
"How about barter?"
"Depends on what you're bartering. I don't take wegp. It's got to be worth something."
The Gallifreyan proceeded to dig into his pockets, pulling out various items. When he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and noted how the man's eyes widened with greed, he grimaced. "No. Not for trade," he told him, tucking the device some place safe. He suddenly smiled as he felt his hand glide across a smooth, hard object. Pulling out an tennis ball sized multicolored gem, he held it out to allow the light to shine on it. "A Quertlan diamond. Very rare. Trade you for the necklace and information about who sold it to you."
"Not so fast. That's pretty nice but it might take awhile to sell it. What else you got?"
The Doctor frowned but tucked the diamond back into his pocket before pulling out various items. "A bag of jelly babies... ceramic mug from Rextar Seven..."
"Jelly babies?" the man questioned with a frown.
"An Earth delicacy." He handed one to the man.
The trader's eyes rose as he tasted the treat. "Hmm, maybe...what else?"
"Ah, here's something." The Gallifreyan then produced a long shaft with a carved small totem handle. "This is one of the finest obsidian carvings from the Drelub hill people of Jinwer 2."
"Looks like a knife."
"It is a knife. I couldn't let that father keep threatening his neighbors with it, now could I. But I'll give it to you in exchange for the necklace."
"I want the gem too..."
"Fine," came the reply as the Doctor handed over the knife and then dug in his pockets for the gem.
"...and the jelly babies."
The Gallifreyan blinked at the request before giving a shrug and pulling out both the gem and the bag of treats.
"They taste good," the man explained as they made the trade.
"Completely addicted to them," the Doctor agreed as he grasped the necklace tightly in hand. "Now, who sold you this necklace?"
"I told you. It was a young man who said he was down on his luck. He really did say this was his grandmother's necklace. Look at it. Doesn't it look like something some old lady would wear?"
"Actually, it looks like something a very young lady would wear," the Doctor contradicted. "And it is indeed a unique piece of jewelry. One of a kind. Have a description of this man?"
"Well, he was rather scrawny. Had on nice clothing but nothing really fancy, you know. Sort of like what you're wearing. He had a scar over his right eye. I remember that clearly. Asked him about it. He told me to mind my own business."
"Anything else? Height? Weight?"
"I don't know. Maybe a few inches shorter than you. As I say, he was scrawny. Light brown hair and sort of sea green eyes."
The Doctor nodded. "Right. Nice doing business with you," he told the trader, walking away from him at a brisk pace.
"Mmm," the man replied, a mouthful of jelly babies keeping his words muffled.
The Time Lord moved through the market quickly, avoiding as much as possible from being noticed, his mind running through the information that he'd just been given. While sea green eyes weren't exactly a common thing on this world, skinny, tall and scarred young men were very likely a dime a dozen. Still, it was a lead, something for him to ponder on.
Running his thumb over the pendant, he tucked the necklace into his pocket and marched for the TARDIS. There was little he could do at the moment. He knew he'd have to provide Pelz with this new information but he'd have to wait until his old friend found him this time. Still, he could think about what he did know and, hopefully, something would click in his mind.
