Chapter 1

Darillium

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS. It was midnight on Darillium, so the park was closed. No tourists in the area. He could be alone. It had been some time since he was here last. That was the night he took River to see the Singing Towers. He is not as well dressed as he was that night. That night he made it a point to dress his best with a brand new tux. Now, he was wearing what came to be his usually garb after spending time in Victorian England: black trousers, lavender waist coat with pocket watch, light blue shirt, burgundy frock coat and of course his bow tie.

Off in the distance the Doctor could hear the Singing Towers. The Towers were not towers at all really, but two steep mountain peaks. They worked on the same principle as the theremin. The two mountains generated a strong magnetic field: one controlling volume and the other controlling pitch. The air currents circling the peaks disrupted the magnetic field creating various pitches at different volumes; literally the music of the wind. River had begged him for ages to go see and hear this wonder of the universe, but he was reluctant to do it because he knew that would be the last time they would be together; their last night before she went to The Library. Their relationship and subsequent marriage was a strange one by most standards; always meeting at different points in the other's time stream. The first time he saw her was the last time she saw him. A hazard of being wanders in the fourth dimension. He never truly said goodbye to her. He hates goodbyes. Always has; always will. That is why he never settled in one place. Always moving; always running; and never looking back. Except here.

Why did he come here? The Doctor was not one to take a trip down Memory Lane, but this time he wanted to reminisce. From where he was standing, next to the TARDIS in the middle of a clearing of indigo grass, the Doctor could see a walking path. The black stones that made up the path were dotted with diamonds, and the light from the lampposts reflecting off of them made it seem as if one were walking on a pathway of stars. It was the same path he and River took to the Singing Towers. As he walked over to one of the benches next to the path, he took a seat and looked down the path towards the Towers. He saw another bench beneath a silver tree; the one where he presented River with the sonic screwdriver he made for her. He remembered having her sit down; the glitter in her emerald evening dress catching the light from the lampposts; her smile as she opened the box. Inside the screwdriver was a neural relay that a younger version of himself would use to save River's data ghost to CAL, The Library's data core. She's alive, but not here. Not with him.

"You nostalgic idiot!"

The quiet was interrupted by a voice coming from behind the Doctor, in the direction of the TARDIS. He stood up and turned on his heels and saw a figure casually walking towards him.

"You have to love closed causal chains. You can't live with them and won't learn a thing without them."

"The park's closed," replied the Doctor. "Is it? Then why are you here?" retorted the stranger with a smile. His accent was close to neutral, but there was a hint of a British accent in his voice.

The stranger finally stepped into the light of the lampposts giving the Doctor a chance to see the one disturbing his time alone. The stranger appeared to be a young man in his mid-twenties. The hair on his head was a light brown and wavy and was combed off to the right and curled at the ends. His face was slightly narrow with blue-green eyes and sporting a goatee. The outfit he wore was a black frock coat much like the Doctor's with matching trousers, grey vest with a silver watch chain visible, a white shirt with wing-tipped collar and black tie.

Flashing his psychic paper, the Doctor replied, "I'm the groundskeeper, and you're trespassing."

"Psychic paper," said the stranger reaching into his inside coat pocket and pulling out a brown leather business card holder, "a useful thing to have when trying to get into places uninvited, but you have to be careful to not let your mind wander. There's no telling what might show up on it, which is probably why you didn't let me get a good look at your, uh, 'credentials' Mr. Groundskeeper." As the young man put his psychic paper back into his coat pocket, The Doctor noticed a gold ring on his right ring finger inset with a large green gem.

"Well, so much for that. No, I'm not the groundskeeper. I'm the Doctor. Who are you?"

"Oh, have we finally reached that point in the conversation?"

"No, yes, well," the Doctor fumbling over his words, "we actually skipped that part of the conversation. That usually comes first. Except on Vende III. Conversations are always held in reverse, but never mind that! Who are you and what do you...wait." The Doctor paused. A look of realization was on his face. "A closed causal chain: a chain of events that causes itself forming a circle. We've met before haven't we?"

"Look, the old man's clever!" exclaimed the stranger, taking a step forward. "Yes, I've met you. An older you," He was now standing face-to-face with the Doctor, "but now it seems I'm going to have to work to earn your trust for once. For starters allow me to introduce myself. I'm the Professor." The Professor reached out to the Doctor to shake his hand.

"The Professor?" replied the Doctor. "Professor who?"

The Professor grinned mischievously, "Just Professor will do."

For once in his many lives, the Doctor was a little speechless! That's new, he thought with a smirk.

"A pleasure," The Doctor reached out and took the Professor's hand and shook it, then pulled up the black sleeve of The Professor's coat revealing his vortex manipulator, "time agent."

The Professor gave a nervous grin, "Actually, I'm not a time agent. I'm just a time traveler, not much different from you."

The Doctor, skeptical, released the Professor's hand. The Professor took a step back, and after smoothing out the sleeve of his coat and adjusting his tie, he continued, "I'm just a time traveler like you, and nothing more. I come with a message for you, and it concerns your wife, River."

The Doctor's hearts stopped as the blood left his face, dozens of thoughts racing through his head: How does he know River?! She's dead! What's he playing at?! Oh, god, The Library?! Something must be wrong with The Library!

"Calm down, Doctor," reassured the Professor. "I bring good news…she's been saved."