THE CHILDREN THAT TIME FORGOT

By Monica Bovee and Will B. Swift

PART 2

Rose stood in front of the Doctor in the High Court's evidence sector, struggling to believe her eyes. The bodies of the children were being carefully covered in opaque plastic to preserve them. Each of which was then placed in its own glass covered alcove, located across from the jury on the opposite side of the court room. Rose looked away but found little else to focus on. At the far end of the balcony, the Judge rested in an ornate metal chair while several black-robed figures consulted with her. These were minor court officials who had received the bodies from the Judoon and, as far as she could tell, tended to the less glamorous aspects of the trial.

Her eyes skimmed over the jury, still firmly planted. Silent and unreadable except for the human-looking TARDIS, who seemed bored and impatient. Rose turned back to the alcoves. The last of the children were being shoved into the bags, removing their contorted mummified faces from her sight but not her mind. The Doctor stood right behind her, his fists clenching and unclenching. "They'll try to pin all of these on the TARDIS" he said through gritted teeth.

Rose leaned back against his chest. "It's gotta be a set-up, right? Planted evidence?"

"Possibly..." The Doctor's voice seemed to clutch momentarily at the straw. "But something about her…" The Doctor turned and looked down towards the vertex of the cone-shaped room and the police box hanging there. "No, they were really inside the TARDIS. I can tell from the elevated artron energy they've been in there a long time–a very long time. They were there" –a sense of suspicion crawled across his face– "and she wanted them to be found!"

"How do you know?" Rose's brows furrowed in concern.

"Because I've spent centuries inside her and never seen them."

"So... the TARDIS re-arranged its insides, just to hide them?"

"From me, yes. But the Judoon found them in less than a minute–she must have dumped them right in their laps!"

"But I thought the rhino kid just had her chrono... what's it... amputated? How can that"– Rose pointed at the Judoon corpse–"be her if she wasn't killed?"

"Oreno the Younger wasn't killed; her reality quotient was reduced. It turned her into what some would call the walking dead. People who no longer matter to history. People who have no potential and nothing they do matters. That"–the Doctor jabbed his finger at the shrouded body–"is just the physical condensation of the future the child was supposed to have." Rose could hear his voice sinking with emotion. "The child wasn't killed – but her future was, and that's what remains – a shriveled and twisted ball of potential, tossed aside by Marnal."

The Doctor's arm swept in frustration across the room. "Everyone sees these husks as dead children because children are the primal symbol of potential future. It's the only way your nervous systems can interpret the data."

Rose looked again at what her brain was telling her were children's corpses. Her head hurt. Time to change the subject, she decided. "So how can they put a time machine on trial? Surely it's this Marnal bloke, who's responsible. The TARDIS just goes where it's told." The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Most of the time," she added.

"They used to put horses and tractors on trial in your country. Didn't stop till 1788, and the TARDIS is far smarter and more willful than Mr. Ed."

"If it's Marnal plan, shouldn't he be the one held responsible?"

"A TARDIS's relationship with its Time Lord is a lot more complicated than a dog and pony show. We're bonded on a biological level."

Rose smiled teasingly. "You keep talking like that and you'll make me jealous."

"Fair is fair." He moved to the railing and gazed down once more at the blue box suspended far below them. "It's not like she isn't jealous of you."

Rose frowned. Why did she suddenly feel like he was talking about his ex-girlfriend? She moved to his side and placed her hands on the railing, looking at the TARDIS. It turned silently in a slow circle. "Who's Marnal?" she asked softly.

"At one time, one of my greatest heroes." The Doctor's face fell. "In the end, just one more Time Lord I couldn't save."

"So this hero of yours... he became a criminal?"

"He would have called himself a crusader." The Doctor stared off into the depths mists. "He saw the coming of the last time war; the War in Heaven he called it. And he became obsessed with trying to stop it." He sighed and turned to look at her, "Whatever he did, I'm sure he thought he was helping."

"Don't they all," stated Rose. The Doctor nodded agreement. "But how could he use your TARDIS to do this? Did you run a Rent-a-TARDIS or something?" she asked trying to break his gloomy mood.

Despite her tone, the Doctor seemed honestly offended. "A Rent-a-TARDIS! You're accusing me of running a TARDIS brothel?" Seeing the look on Rose's face he added, "And before you say anything, No, Miss Tyler, I never ran a brothel – at least not one for TARDISes at any rate."

"Then…"

"Marnal was bonded to the TARDIS before I was even born."

Rose started in surprise. "But you told me you're over 900–"

The Doctor interrupted again. "I'm sure she wouldn't want you to know" – He lowered his voice as if trying to make sure the police box couldn't hear him – "But the TARDIS is over nine thousand years old."

"Nine thou–"

"Hush! The old girl is upset enough as it is."

Rose glanced guiltily at the TARDIS below them. All around the court room people were filing in. The adjournment called by the judge was nearly over.

The Doctor continued. "Marnal was bonded to the TARDIS for most of that time. She probably knew Marnal far better than she knows me." Now it was the Doctor's voice that was tainted with jealousy.

Despite all the tantalizing revelations Rose tried to stay focused. "So all this mess" –she waved a hand indicating the recently bagged bodies–"happened before you were born, and there's no chance the defense will be able to put you on the stand to provide the TARDIS with an alibi?"

"No, besides alibis aren't much use when the suspect is a time machine." He glanced sidelong at her and the pensive look he'd been wearing dropped away from his features. A smile of realization spread over his face and he squeezed her shoulders. "But you might be of more use to her."

"Me? How?" she asked.

But no answer came; the Doctor had already released her and was jogging away from the evidence sector, past the jury, and disappearing into the collective of black robed beings surrounding the Judge.

She hurried after him. But by the time she caught up, he was already deep in conversation with the woman. When Rose moved to join them, a robed arm blocked her passage. She found herself looking into the eyes of a middle aged, dark haired, balding man, with glowing green teeth.

"You have not been permitted to stand in the presence of the High Court Judge," he intoned. Rose recognized the voice of the judicial crier, who earlier had introduced each level of the court as it had arrived. He apparently had enough authority to keep her from where she wanted to go. She raised her head to gaze over his arm. It seemed the Doctor had already charmed his way past the man, or maybe it was the psychic paper he was sliding back into his jacket.

"I was just going to–"

"You have not been permitted access to her graciousness. Your presence has not been requested"–and though shorter than she, he managed to look down his nose at her–"neither is it desired."

Rose ignored the man's contempt. She sighed and listened in on the Doctor's conversation as closely as she could.

"…I must remind you, Doctor"–the judge's icy voice counterpointed her fiery eyes. "–That under Hearing Protocol 42 of the Proclamation, you can only be granted two adjustments to the court proceedings."

"Your Honor, the TARDIS would feel much more comfortable if one of her trusted servants undertook the responsibility of her defense."

"Is the accused aware of the risk this puts her in?" The white haired woman gave a fleeting glance in Rose's direction. "A lack of understanding of the Galactic Law could lead to an inaccurate verdict."

"The chosen defense advocate has all the experience necessary," the Doctor assured her.

"Very well." The Judge looked down to the defense gallery, where the gray-robed figures were returning from the recess and addressed them. "Advocates of the accused,"–her regal voice descended–"the accused has dismissed you from service. In your place the ship has requested that the role of advocate be taken by her servant, Rose Tyler."

Rose stared in disbelief at the Doctor's smiling face as he walked back to join her. "Me?" she asked.

"Yep."

"I don't know anything about this hearing! Until yesterday I thought the Shadow Proclamation was a treaty or something. A piece of paper... not an interstellar united nations with its own court system!" Rose exhaled. "Why not you? This all makes sense to you!"

"Two reasons. One every court official must be profiled on a genetic level."

"So?"

"So, I'm a Time Lord, and profiling me would reveal…" With an expectant look he waited for her response.

"That I lied to them." Rose finished. The Doctor nodded. "I could just tell them the truth" she offered.

"And they'd lock you up for lying to a Judoon."

Rose frowned with realization. "You're doing all this to punish me!"

"Nonsense!" He grinned. "The Universe has its own sense of justice. I just give things a nudge." He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You'll do fine."

"What was that you told the judge... about us being the TARDIS's servants?"

"Oh yeah. Did I mention we're working for her now? The Judge – the whole court in fact, considers us hers."

"They think we belong to the TARDIS..." Rose paused, her head spinning at the thought. "You mean like slaves?"

"Servants, I said,–trusted servants. Why do you think we've been allowed to follow along on this case? The moment the TARDIS materialized around us we were considered non culpable accomplices ... innocents ... just along for the ride."

Rose continued to look confused

"We're not slaves," he said firmly. "If anything the court considers us, well, more like..." He finished in a cough–"her pets."

Rose's eye widened. "Pets?"

"Only just,–" he added quickly. "Which puts us in the very useful position of you being able to represent her."

"I don't even understand what the crime was!"

"Exactly." He exited the jury level through a low arch and began descending a set of stairs towards the lower levels. Rose chased after him. "It means you'll ask good questions."

"Questions?" She ran alongside him "Isn't it answers we need?"

His face became more serious. "We have answers." He waved upwards towards the children. "Fifteen answers. Fifteen amputated futures that my TARDIS has been carrying around for thousands of years waiting for someone to ask the right questions." As the Doctor talked he led Rose down to the ground floor of the cone. The defense team had departed leaving only a glass table and a couple of metal chairs. He turned to face her. "The prosecution is out for blood and they're going to try to show that the TARDIS is responsible for every one of those husks."

"And that's when I ask the questions?"

"Yep, and that gives us something we need – time. For some reason, history was made to forget every one of those lives. And now I've got less than a week to find out how and why before my TARDIS's birth is aborted."

Rose sat down at the table and folded her hands together. "Doctor…" She chose her words carefully. "You don't think the TARDIS could actually be responsible for…this?"

The Doctor's face darkened and his arm thrust out in the direction of the spinning box. "That TARDIS–My TARDIS would never participate in breaking the Laws of Time! Not like this!"

"How can you be sure?"

The Doctor waved the idea off. "Every TARDIS has a governing circuit that limits the amount of damage it or its operator can inflict on history."

"But you said the TARDIS has a mind of its own. You told me that sometimes it disobeys even you."

Finally taking her seriously, he turned and stared down at her. "Yes. Yes, but that was different…"

Rose's eyes locked with his. "How?"

"It just was!" The Doctor spun around to face the police box suspended above him. "The TARDIS has always had a conscience. Even without the governing circuit she knows what right and wrong is. Better than I do sometimes. How could you think…?" He trailed off, still staring at the ship.

Rose lowered her head, not wanting to see the pain she had caused. "Sorry, but you said it was my job to ask questions."

He turned to look back at her. For a moment, his face was inscrutable, then he closed his eyes and nodded. "So I did. Well done." He looked back at the TARDIS once more. "I just... I've got to save her."

"We've got to save her" said Rose.

"What?"

She stood up and joined him at the railing. "You keep saying 'I've.' Rose held out her hand. "You're not alone in all this." The Doctor smiled as he took her hand. The two of them turned towards the TARDIS suspended above the endless shaft.

"She's going to need all the help she can get," said the Doctor.

A Judoon trooper entered the level, locked eyes on the two of them and began moving toward Rose. He produced a genetic scanner and waved it over her, no doubt recording her DNA, waist line, and the banana she'd had for breakfast.

As soon as the Judoon had moved on, the Doctor scooped up a blue glowing square of framed glass that sat on the defense table.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Legal pad. Allows someone to instantly access all the records of this or any other court hearing held by the Shadow Proclamation," explained the Doctor as he shoved it into his jacket's inner pocket.

"Won't I need that?"

"Nope. There's never been a case like this one, so precedents will be useless. But it will help me keep up to date while I'm out of the court room."

"And just where will you be?"

"Off giving the Universe's sense of justice a nudge or two." Rose watched the Doctor climb up the stairs leading out of the court room just as the judge returned to her gantry.

"The High Court of the Shadow Proclamation is once again in session." The Judge's voice announced.

With a wave and a smile the Doctor vanished from view. Rose breathed in deeply and nodded; bolstering herself for what was to come.

"Advocate Rose Tyler, does the accused have anything it wishes to say before the prosecution begins its presentation of the evidence?"

Questions, thought Rose. Ask questions! She looked into the albino's piercing red eyes. "No, ma'am," was all she could manage.

"Commander CoRo, you may begin."

One level above her the Judoon activated a massive hologram that filled the space above the suspended police box. The slowly rotating image resolved into a battered book with a broken clasp. Embossed upon its leather cover was a large tree of some kind, with the words '500 Year Diary' printed in gold leaf below. "Your Honor, people of the court, this is the personal log of Lord Marnal of the House of Oakdown. It was the recovery of this piece of evidence on the planet Mars that facilitated the reopening of this case, and allowed the issuing of the accused's arrest warrant.

"Inside this document Marnal recorded how he and the accused timeship kidnapped my great grand aunt, Oreno the Younger and performed this act of chronal-mutilation. While the accused may remain silent, the Time Lord waxes on at great length concerning the danger the Shadow Proclamation represented to Gallifrey. In particular, he was concerned with Oreno's eventual rise to the position of Shadow Architect of the Proclamation and the alliance of Temporal Powers she would form. To that end the timeship traveled to a point when Oreno had yet to grow her second horn and lured her inside. Good taste prevents me from going into the grizzly details of what happened next, but in accordance with protocol, I offer a complete transcript of the diary; now available via your legal pads."

Rose glared at her empty table, took a deep breath and raised her hand. "Excuse me."

The judge's eyes shifted from the prosecution above to the defense below. "The court recognizes the Advocate."

"I…we just wanted to know why this Marnal bloke was so worried about the Shadow Proclamation."

The lead prosecutor leaned over the railing and, glaring through the hologram, said "Marnal feared that the Time Lords would be destroyed in a future Time War. As the diary shows, he was obsessed with this possibility and took many actions against numerous worlds to prevent their rise to power."

Rose took a deep breath and plunged in "So you're saying the TARDIS was only trying to protect the Time Lords and the other TARDI…TARDISes?"

"That appears to have been the Time Lord's objective; however the evidence indicates that something much more selfish was driving the accused when it committed these crimes."

"What evidence is that?"

"The fact that the ship is here today!" The Judoon thrust out one of its three fingers at the dangling capsule and his words came out in a torrent. "Every Time Lord, every TARDIS and every Gallifreyan down to the last loomling was killed in that War, yet here sits a Type 40, a design that was supposed to be decommissioned and scrapped centuries before the War even began!

Pausing for a breath the prosecutor continued, "Its creators and pilots all died, but somehow this ship escaped unharmed. Its continued existence is the most damning evidence of all. If the accused had truly been motivated by the survival of the Time Lords then why wasn't it destroyed in the final battle? Why is the ship here when even its pilot was killed? Is it because the accused ran in terror, abandoning him? Or is it because the ship had chrono-formed history by removing key people from the Web of Time; destroying the lives of just enough children to guarantee its own safety and survival?"

The Judge's voice cut through the prosecutor's tirade. "The accused is not required to answer these questions."

CoRo turned his flaring nostrils towards the judge. "By the time the case for the prosecution is complete the accused won't have to, your Honor."

Time to do my job thought Rose. "Your Honor, it seems clear that the prosecution has a personal grudge against my…time machine."

"As the next of kin of the only identified victim this is likely. However, as a Judoon Commander, he is fully trained in court procedures and the Laws of Time. You may feel free to take advantage of his emotional attachment to the case, as he no doubt plans to do with you." As the Judge finished speaking CoRo sneered at her.

Despite the fact that much of the ancient diary was missing, CoRo still managed to spend almost two hours reading quotations of Marnal discussing possible ways to avert the Time War by changing history. He then confirmed the Doctor's prediction that they would be trying the TARDIS for chrono-mutilation of all fifteen of the biodata husks.

CoRo followed this up with a presentation from something called a Time-Space Visualiser. He claimed this device could tune into any specified moment of space and time and provide video and sound of events occurring there. The idea of such a time television seemed pretty weak to Rose after having traveled in the TARDIS, but she supposed it was safer.

A two dimensional screen was projected into the air. On it a small Judoon child, Oreno the Younger presumably, ran through a play-ground. In the distance some other Judoon children were involved in some variation of cops and robbers. Oreno rounded a set of red climbing bars which had been constructed to look like a gigantic spider, and stopped to stare at an almost psychedelic light display on a small nearby building.

Intrigued, Oreno approached the building. The double doors swung inward revealing kilometers of savanna under a clear blue sky. Two meter tall green grass swayed lazily in the wind. The child peered behind the small shed to see only city streets filled with buzzing traffic. Clearly confused by the discontinuity between the vast fields within the tiny shed and the cityscape looming behind it, Oreno returned to the shed's door.

CoRo spoke up. "Members of the court, may I draw your attention to the Phelant Grass depicted within the timeship. This particular type of grass is unique to my family's estates on the planet Stakkato."

On the screen the child skipped through the entrance into the impossibly endless fields. The door closed behind her. Moments later the disguised time ship dematerialized with a familiar trumpeting noise.

A feeling of nausea at what she had just witnessed coursed through Rose. "What difference does it make who the gardener is?" She managed to ask.

CoRo snorted. "It shows that this trap was a premeditated and carefully executed attack, targeted at a specific child." He pointed at the holo-screen. "And here are the frightened parents looking for Oreno."

On the screen two adult Judoon crossed the play-ground calling out for Oreno. Apparently battle armor was standard on family outings, noted Rose. Moments after they left the screen the trumpeting returned, revealing the shed-like structure once again.

After several minutes the doors opened and the child emerged. Seconds later the time machine dematerialized; this time attracting attention of the child's parents, who stared in shock at the vanishing shape. The two of them began to complain about teleport use being a violation of play-ground rules and agreed to file a report on the violation.

With a start Rose realized she'd completely forgotten the child, just like the parents, even though she still was on the screen. Oreno the Younger looked identical and yet completely different in a way Rose couldn't quite describe. Her parents moved off to find the complaint forms, and after a moment, Oreno quietly followed them.

"You see now the true evil the accused is capable of. This ship did something so horrible to their child it is literally beneath their comprehension. During the Time War, such victims were known as the walking dead. For the rest of her life, Oreno the Younger did little more than exist." With the click of a remote control the holo-screen showed Oreno at a sporting match sitting on the bench. Her team's coach stood with his back to her, blocking her view of the game.

CoRo continued. "She was a member of six nukeball teams and didn't play a single game." Another button, another scene; this one was clearly some sort of formal family dinner. While Oreno the Elder handed out wads of hay for every other member of the family, the child was quietly standing in the background. The child sighed with resignation and stole a handful of fodder from her oblivious brother's plate.

"As your legal pads will show, Oreno the Younger spent the rest of her short life unloved and ignored by everyone. One-hundred thirty-four years later Oreno the Elder died, having forgotten to mention her first born daughter in her will. Three years after that the authorities found the victim's body in an alley next to her childhood home. An autopsy was not performed, but descriptions indicate the body appeared to have been there for over eight days."

Rose swallowed hard. On the surface it seemed the TARDIS was being held responsible for the child's rotten parents, but she knew it had to be a side effect of the child's future being amputated. Like the Doctor had told her, nothing Oreno said or did mattered after that day in the park; she had literally become the walking dead. Looking into CoRo's eyes she could see the same pain and revulsion she felt reflected there. Maybe the Doctor had been right; being overlooked was a fate worse than death.

Still, she wasn't an observer here. She had a job to do and allowing sympathy to get in the way would not help her cause. "Right... well then..." she began slowly, "How do you know that was the same TARDIS? It doesn't look the same to me."

With a slight shake of his head the prosecutor appeared to gather his thoughts. "It is a well-known fact that the timeships of Gallifrey are capable of altering their appearance as a way of deceiving lesser species."

"Not this TARDIS" said Rose excitedly, while pointing at the police box. "She can't change her shape or color! The thing-a-ma-jig is broken!" Rose made a mental note to ask the Doctor the what the "thing-a-ma-jig" was really called.

"If you will observe–" CoRo touched the controls and the holo-display showed a complex device with a series of numbers and equations beneath it. "Analysis shows the timeship was equipped with a chameleon circuit." Rose winced. So that was what it was called. "And while the design of Type 40 chameleon circuits are known to be unreliable the one carried by the accused shows signs of being repaired several times. Indeed it is the conclusion of our experts that this TARDIS chooses to remain in this absurd shape–further proof of its unstable and maverick nature."

Rose recovered quickly. "That still doesn't prove that it's the same time machine!"

"Marnal's Diary records the date and time of the abduction. In several places in the same diary he records his TARDIS's coding as Type 4-0-1, Serial Number 74384338, the same coding as the accused."

Rose leapt on an idea, "Maybe Marnal had more than one TARDIS?"

"The Laws of Time and decency permit a Time Lord to form a symbiotic bond with only one TARDIS at a time."

"Yeah, well... the same could be said of turning children into the walking dead. If Marnal was willing to break one law then he could have broken others." After she'd spoken there was a long pause, then a wave of whispering began to rise up from CoRo's colleagues.

The Troop Leader frowned and took a deep breath. "The prosecution concedes the advocate's point." He turned to gaze on the row of timeships sitting on the third level. "However, as the jury is aware, new evidence uncovered this very day, connects the accused directly to these crimes." CoRo took his seat.

"The prosecutor's preliminary presentation is complete," the Judge stated. "The accused now has the opportunity to offer a statement to conclude today's session."

Rose stood up. "Your honor, the accused is a machine; it can't speak for itself."

"A thought channel has been opened to the defendant's telepathic circuits. The statement can take any form."

Slowly, in the icy mist of the chamber's center, a swirl of blue light coalesced into the hologram of a massive police box. All eyes watched and waited. The shape hung there dwarfing its more substantial twin and mirroring its rotation in the gravity bubble.

Rose looked on eagerly but the image seemed to be the totality of the TARDIS's statement. "That's it?" she said at last.

"It would appear so Advocate," offered the Judge in a similarly puzzled tone.

"But what does that mean?" Rose bit her lower lip as she stared at the holographic shape.

CoRo bared his teeth. "Perhaps the accused is merely showing us the image of the guilty party." With a snort of laughter he began to gather his legal pads.

"Or maybe it's a message only the Jury can understand." Rose countered. She looked up, her eyes sweeping over the capsules, they settled on hopefully on the ship whose exterior mirrored that of a woman. Rose searched her eyes for confirmation but found only finely honed boredom and disgust.

The judge cut in. "In any event the defendant's statement has been made. This session of the High Court of the Shadow Proclamation is now adjourned. Court will resume tomorrow with the continuation of the prosecution's case."

The Doctor sat on the edge of one of the slender bridges that connected two of the Proclamation's asteroid cities together. His head rested on the guard rail and his legs dangled over the star filled void. He pondered the situation that had brought them here. One quick little stop at a spaceport at the banal end of the universe and the next thing you know your transport is apprehended by Judoon for a several thousand year old crime.

Things always seemed to have a way of aligning themselves just so in the course of his travels. His meeting with Rose for one. But this was something that had apparently been sitting under his nose for centuries. The idea that the TARDIS could do what they were accusing her of...ridiculous, and yet...there was something else going on here. Some undercurrent that pricked at the edge of his twenty-seven senses. He rubbed a hand along the back of his head. Best to deal with this later. Prove the TARDIS's innocence and keep her safe–in the end she was all that mattered.

One of the thousands of observations and thoughts swirling in his head bubbled to the surface; Rose was emerging from the Tower of Justice.

She spotted him and stepped off the moving sidewalk before she overshot him. He was still dangling his legs and thoughts over infinity. Piled around him were over a hundred slender paper back books.

Rose sat down next to him seemingly determined not to be intimidated by the vastness. But not so determined that she let go of the railing's vertical support strut. The Doctor noticed her display of bravado but didn't react.

"Court's been adjourned." She picked up one the books. The words 'The Gallifrey Chronicles - The Hand of Time' were plastered rather luridly across its cover. "Where'd you get all this?"

"Won them in an auction."

"What, like from eBay?"

The Doctor smiled half-heartedly. "Haven't you ever looked at those listings and thought 'Who on Earth would want that?' Well they're not always on Earth."

"So, that's what you wanted the legal pad for, to bid on used books?" Rose picked up another book with a painting of what looked like a man wearing a large skull mask on the front.

"That, and to keep up with the trial. Most interventionists, like Marnal, fancy themselves to be writers – at least they did on my planet. They love to write up the manifestos to justify themselves and their actions. Deliavatsud and Ferain both wrote books that justified starting the war with the Daleks, so I figured it might be worth looking at Castellan Marnal's writings."

"And?"

"Waste of time. One hundred and fifty-six books about the history of Gallifrey and how nice it is…" he caught himself, "...was. One hundred and fifty-six attempts at trying to make the lives of the Time Lords look interesting." He half-heartedly smacked one of the piles and watched the books float into space. "Nothing on kidnapping children from throughout space and time and chopping off their futures."

Rose set the skull book down out of the Doctor's reach. "So, you saw what happened in court?"

"Yes."

"What's with the Police Box hologram? What was it trying to say?"

"I don't know. She's not even trying to defend herself."

"Well, it clearly knows something. Why can't it just tell us about it?"

"The TARDIS doesn't work that way. She's not a machine or a person as we think of them. Time and relative dimension in space – she's a complex event in space-time. Movement incarnate. Her sentient matrix is made up of nonlinear time-frames instead of neurons. She doesn't see the cosmos the way we do, and she doesn't think like we do either. The only ships that were language compatible were the ones that were produced during the Time War. If you didn't get one of those refits…"

"So, some TARDISes can talk if they've got the right upgrades?"

"Oh yes. Like the Type 101 on the jury, the one wearing the humanoid shell." The Doctor pointed at his face and made a circular motion. "She can talk."

"Could we get her to translate?"

"I wouldn't trust anything the 101 said. I knew her Time Lord and he wasn't exactly reliable. Besides it wouldn't help. It's like on Torbon II – my TARDIS just seems to have… given up," the Doctor said with a growl.

Rose pursed her lips for a moment. "Maybe it hasn't given up; you said the TARDIS has been waiting for someone to ask the right questions."

"And I should have been that someone! Not some room full of people she doesn't even know." He rested his head in his hands for a brief moment, collecting his thoughts, before continuing. "I just never considered – not once in all these centuries…"

She reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. "Could it be trauma?" Rose asked delicately. "Maybe she doesn't remember what happened because it scared her?"

"Nothing happened! I downloaded her Flight Recorder. She's never been anywhere near the Judoon homeworld."

"Well we can show that to the Jury." Rose suggested.

"We could do. I just don't know if it'll be enough, not if the TARDIS isn't even willing to defend herself."

At that point the Doctor's jacket began beeping. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black box, the top of which had a flashing red light and number printed on it.

"Please tell me that's not a bomb," she asked warily.

Doctor jumped to his feet. "Nothing so exciting. They gave this to me so I'd know when my spaceship was ready." The Doctor held out his hand and helped Rose up.

"Spaceship? What do you need a space ship for?"

"When the Judoon IDed the biodata husks–"

"The dead children?"

"Yes. When they were IDed, I cross-referenced the list with the Shadow Proclamation's census records. Marnal snatched children from all up and down space and time. One of the victims is still alive on Earth. His name is Corey Millard, and I've reserved a ship so I can go there and talk to him."

"Are you going to bring him back as a witness?"

"Depends on what I find out. Though I hope I don't have to – culture shock and all that."

The Doctor turned to go, but Rose caught his arm. "So, you're leaving me to deal with all this until you get back?"

The Doctor put his hands on her upper arms and looked into her eyes. "I told you, just keep asking questions." he said gently. "Can you do that for me Rose?" She looked down briefly, but then met his eyes again and nodded.

The Doctor took two steps back from Rose and, without breaking eye contact, began to glide away on the slide-walk.

"Wait... what about all these books? Isn't this littering?"

For the first time in a while, the Doctor grinned. "This is the Shadow Proclamation; the biggest book worms in the cosmos live here. Someone'll grab them." And with that he was gone.

Rose spent a good portion of the night and the next morning pouring over past case files provided to her by the computer system in the room allotted to her. It was, for the most part, an exercise in frustration. As the Doctor had said, there were no cases quite like this one, and the legal language made her head spin. An hour before the case was to reconvene she gave up and decided to calm her nerves with some music instead. "Earth Music" was what she requested the computer play. What she got was a disjointed mix of what sounded like Mozart set to a reggae groove. After a breakfast of the last of the Doctor's bananas and what Rose could only assume were supposed to be eggs, she returned to her seat in the High Court's chambers at the appointed hour.

She needed to focus. Commander CoRo called his first witness, a Doctor Pelap, Temporal Physicist of the Foundation for the Study of Advanced Sciences (Reformed Orthodox). Doctor Pelap, much to Rose's surprise, was a tree. Not a tree like Jabe from the Forest of Cheem, but an actual proper tree with a trunk, branches, leaves and fruit that looked suspiciously like crab apples. Pelap's roots were sunk into a transparent gel which was incased in a similarly transparent hexagonal drum. She was about twenty-five feet tall and her fruit swung comically as the pot glided, Dalek-like, onto a newly formed walkway, extending over the hanging TARDIS.

"Doctor Pelap, you honor us with your presence," the Judge said from her position next to the jury.

"I would consider myself likewise honored if this interview could be kept to a minimum. I am due back at the Foundation by the end of this astro-sidereal day." The voice that spoke issued not from the tree but from a large green owl perched among the its branches. "My fruit is ripening as we speak!" The bird's voice was lower than a parrot's, but still carried the suggestion of a squawk.

CoRo spoke, "We Judoon believe that justice should always be swift. But it was felt an expert in matters of temporal mutilation should view the… evidence that has been uncovered."

The bird stared at the tree's central stem as if expecting an answer. It then turned and said "I have examined the biodata husks."

"And your conclusion Doctor Pelap?"

"All fifteen of the samples represent the perceptual manifestation of the futures these children should have had. Each child was subjected to some sort of temporal amputation using very advanced science. Their future biodata was sliced off leaving them as the walking dead."

Rose stood. "Your Honor, I would like to question Doctor Pelap."

"The court recognizes the Advocate."

"Doctor Pelap, could you explain how the dead can walk?"

"Surely the Jury…" The bird ruffled its feathers. "Is fully versed in Time War-era terminology?"

"I want to be clear what crime you're accusing my…client of."

"The walking dead refers to beings who have minimal temporal inertia; people whose reality quotients have been reduced to a state somewhere between point five and point seven. Such people are barely noticed by others and their effect on History is quickly dampened out by the biodata of other, chronologically healthier beings."

CoRo brought things back on topic. "Could you explain how this could have happened to Oreno and the others?"

"Normally such a severe reduction of a subject's reality quotient is accomplished with a ghost cluster device."

With a gleam in his eye, CoRo leaned forward. "And what culture invented these devices?"

"The Time Lords of Gallifrey invented and used such weapons near the beginning of the War. But, within the first few decades, their use was forbidden."

"Why were they forbidden?" asked Rose.

"Officially? Because the creation of the walking dead caused too much distortion to the Web of Time–though many at the Foundation believe it was due to outcries from the Time Lords' allies."

CoRo interjected "So, even if their use was officially forbidden, the technology did exist?"

"Yes, but the manifestation of the children's original biodata in the form of desiccated corpses indicates a much more complex form of retro-weaponry. Something like a chaotic limiter of immense power and precision."

Rose didn't know what to say to that. How do you ask intelligent questions when you don't even know what's being discussed?

CoRo clearly knew what was being discussed. "Would your Foundation be capable of building such a device?"

The bird seemed almost flustered at whatever it had to translate. "Gracious, no. I doubt even the Daleks had that sort of precision. Power yes, but not precision. No, this had to have been the work of a timeship of the Great Houses of Gallifrey."

"Why a timeship?" asked Rose.

"The whole purpose of complex space-time events is the manipulation of the biodata of their crew. How else would they integrate themselves into each time zone? No, a TARDIS would be the ideal tool for this sort of biodata amputation."

CoRo's followed up on Rose's query. "Would such TARDIS have to take an active part in the mutilation?"

"Oh, I should think so. They were all equipped with governor circuits to prevent violations of the Laws of Time. It would take both timeship and its symbiotically-bonded operator working together to override such a safety system."

"And is there any way to identify which Time Lord and TARDIS were responsible for this atrocity?" The glee in CoRo's voice made Rose nervous.

That same glee seemed to only annoy Pelap's translator. "Again you waste my time by asking questions you already know the answer to. Every biodata modification a timeship makes leaves a telepathic print unique to the pilot and his ship." CoRo opened his mouth to ask something, but the bird continued "And yes, it is the telepathic print of the accused time ship and a Gallifreyan Time Lord."

Rose jumped in. "And you know for certain that this Time Lord was Marnal?"

"Advocate, my examination of the defendant's telepathic circuits indicates he was the first Time Lord to form a symbiotic bond with the ship. He was its first pilot."

"And, to be clear, Doctor Pelap" – CoRo did something with his face that Rose now realized was the equivalent of a smile– "The accused would have had to willingly collaborate with its operator for the mutilation to take place?" CoRo waved towards the upper levels. Rose's gaze followed the gesture to the shrouded bodies. An idea began to form in her head.

Dr. Pelap answered, "The older timeship, such as the Type 4-0-1 were designed to limit and prevent damage to history. It's my belief the severing of the victims' biodata could only occur if the ship was helping the pilot override the design limitations."

"Doctor Pelap, I have no further questions." CoRo looked meaningfully at Rose.

"I did have one more question. Is it possible to determine what sort of lives these children would have lived?"

"That shouldn't be too hard for a telepath trained in the reading of biodata. A general overview of each of the amputated futures should be possible to find."

Rose's vision locked on to the judge's red eyes. "Your honor, I'd like the futures of each child… I mean the potential future of each child, to be read out to the jury."

"What would this accomplish?" CoRo asked. "Their original futures can never happen now."

"I'd like to know what these children were going to do in the future. Marnal's diary only mentions Oreno. What about the others? Maybe they all grow up to be ax murders or telemarketers."

"Irrelevant!" shouted the Judoon. "The mutilation of Oreno is more than enough to convict the accused. The motivation behind the other mutilations can have no bearing on this case."

The Judge took a deep breath. "I disagree, prosecutor. The victims deserve to have their lost potentials read out. Indeed, it is the only honor we can still grant them."

CoRo stiffened. "Your honor, if we are to do this I must ask that Oreno the Younger be the first to have her future read."

"It will be as you request. Send for the High Court Fortune Teller!"

The Doctor stood on an ice-covered sidewalk. He looked up at the building in front of him, its exterior was a motley patchwork of brown and yellow, a paint job that apparently nobody cared to finish. He turned back and surveyed the busy street behind him. Cars sped by, leaving dark clouds of exhaust that quickly became heavy with ice crystals and sunk to the snowbanks on either side of the road. Layer after layer of it, leaving a dusting of lead gray on the snow.

He glanced down at the address he'd quickly scrawled on his hand. This was definitely the place. Fairbanks, the city was called, located in the state of Alaska. While it wasn't much to look at, the early afternoon sunset begged for his attention. If the situation were different he would have taken the time to explore, instead the Doctor turned up the his jacket collar and stepped up his body's metabolism for the second time since leaving the ship. Striding up the icy outer steps, he entered the deteriorating building.

He reached the shabby door of the second floor apartment and knocked loudly. The air was punctuated from the floor below by a screaming baby and from the above by the answering bark of what sounded like a very large dog. But, from the door in front of him there was no sound at all; no indication that anyone had heard him knock. No hint there was anyone behind the door.

He knocked again, this time more softly. Finally he heard something, the unmistakable sound of springs relaxing as someone rose from a chair. A shuffle of motion, then a light thump as the occupant reached the door. "I'm here, Mister Dolman," a voice called out. "It's me Corey, remember? I've paid the rent... gave it to you yester–"

"Sorry," The Doctor quickly interrupted, "It's not Mr. Dolman. You don't know me, Corey. I'm the Doctor. We've never met but, it's very important that I talk to you."

The Doctor was met with silence. A flake of brown paint fell from the door and landed on the faded carpet at his feet. Finally the voice repeated, "We've never met?"

"Never," the Doctor responded.

"And you need to talk to me?"

"Very much so, yes. You see I'm trying to help a friend..."

The door opened. Framed in it was a wiry boy of perhaps eighteen years. His face had a suspicious look etched across it and his brow was furrowed like a dog puzzling over whether to come in from the rain. The Doctor squinted; the halo of bockatrons that usually surrounded a healthy human being was almost totally absent.

The boy's dark unwashed hair draped over one eye as he examined the man in front of him. At first it looked as though he might close the door again, but instead a sort of helpless resignation washed over his features. His shoulders slumped as he blew the hair out his face. "Suit yourself." He sighed, and made a lazy turn back into the room, leaving the door open behind him.

The Doctor stepped into the warmth of the darkened apartment and closed the door behind him. The sour smell of stale sweat permeated the room. A fine layer of grime covered what little furniture there was, as if even the dust itself couldn't be bothered to acknowledge Corey's presence.

Corey flopped into a dilapidated barcalounger that faced an ancient television sitting on the floor. The TV seemed to be the only light source in the room aside from a thin sliver of sunlight working its way through the only window's thick curtains. Tiny people moved excitedly across the TV screen, clearly thrilled beyond reason about a particular brand of toothpaste, but no sound emanated from them.

The Doctor walked farther into the room. A pile of days old pizza boxes and take-away clamshells toppled over as his jacket brushed by a small table.

Corey glanced over at him. "Make yourself at home then." He turned back to watching the set and exhaled slowly. "So, what's it to be?" He asked without looking up. "Come to share the Good Book... or maybe it's a charity drive?" He paused and clutched a soda can from a folding tray beside him, took a deep sip before fitting it snugly between his legs, and slouched even further into his chair. He looked up at the Doctor when he got no response "You did say you were trying to help a friend."

The Doctor shook his head "This is wrong," he said firmly, "This is all wrong."

"Ah, it's the Good Book then. So you've come to tell me the errors of this world. Well have at it because I can tell you that in about five minutes time it won't matter–"

"And why's that?"

"Because in that much time you'll remember that you've got something more important to do." He laughed quietly but it sounded more like the air had been punched out of him. "Hell, I can make it only two minutes if I step into the john. Want to time me?"

The Doctor realized that his attention had in fact drifted. He leaned against the wall, willing his temporal senses to focus on the slippery imprint of the boy. With a quick flick of his hand, he switched off the silent television. He crossed his arms and intently examined the boy, who now had a rather surprised and concerned look on his face The young man's fingers clutched the arm of his chair reflexively and his eyes darted from the stranger to the closed door just yards away; clearly wondering if it had been wise to let a total stranger into his home. Slowly, cautiously, he brought his eyes back to the Doctor, and gazed upon him as if he were the most fascinating thing on Earth.

"Your name is Corey Millard. You're eighteen years, two months old. You live alone, and for some reason, which you don't understand, nobody sees you... and I mean really sees you. Not because you're not there, oh no–but because you're simply not that important. But I'm telling you right here, right now, I see you. I know how important you really are, and I'm not going to just walk away and forget because you're the reason I came here."

"Really?" The fear in his voice was tainted with hope.

"Now, I need to know exactly how this happened to you."

The boy's eyes widened, "I... I don't know... seems like it's always been this way."

The Doctor waved the boy's comment away. "Not good enough. There has to have been a point when you still mattered. Think! When was that... at a birthday... a school outing, when?"

"Who are you anyway... How do you know about this... Why are you different from the others?"

"Not important. The only thing that's important right now is you."

"Why are you asking me this?" The boy's voice trembled and broke.

The Doctor stood up, closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "That's a lot to tell Corey, and there isn't time."

"I've got all the time in the world." Corey waved a hand, indicating his run-down apartment.

"Yeah, well for once I haven't..." He gazed at the ceiling, the trial weighing heavily on his mind. He looked at the boy again "But I will say this, you're not the only one this has been done to. It's happened before and I need to know how."

The boy sat up abruptly. "You're saying this was done to me? How could it–"

"You've spent your whole life listening. Now it's your chance to talk."

Corey shook his head in disbelief. "All this time... clerks trying to help the next person behind me in line... people practically sitting on my lap on the bus..." He looked into the Doctor's eyes, sorrow marring his young face. "You know, I even burned our neighbor's house down, just to get attention. My parents just watched as the police came and took me out to their car. Then, they walked right back into the house to watch the game." A single tear rolled down his face.

"It's not you Corey, it never was." The Doctors voice lowered "The person you were supposed to be, the you that would have made a difference, was taken away. Now I don't know why, but I'm going to find out and for that I need your help."

Corey stood slowly, his eyes moving back and forth over the well-worn floor, as if searching for his memories in the carpet fibers. "Everything was fine... until the day we went to the zoo in Anchorage... then my mother left without me. I don't know why."

"Never mind that. Try to remember what happened before she left. You were at the zoo right? What did you do there?"

The boy frowned in concentration "Mom left me to get something to drink. Wait... no... I left her. She was buying food and I got bored; wandered off on my own."

"Where did you go?"

"I dunno, looked at the animals, I guess. I was pretty short and there wasn't much I could see on my own, apart from the snakes of course."

"Snakes?"

"Yeah." Corey's face brightened slightly, "I lucked out there. The back door to the snake house was left open. I knew I could get inside without being seen. The snakes were all in cages, mind you, so I knew I would be safe. I just wanted to get a closer look."

"And did you?" The Doctors eyes narrowed as he listened.

"Yes, I..." He paused and seemed confused "No... I didn't. There was someone there I think... someone who closed the door behind me. Then everything sort of... changed." Corey sucked in a quick gulp of air and dropped heavily onto the arm of his chair. "Oh, my God..."

"Stay with me Corey. Do you remember what happened next?"

"I remember... there were others there too," he whispered. "But I couldn't see them. And there was... a voice, the voice of a man. I couldn't move. Something held me down." He brought a hand up to his chest and clutched at his shirt. "Something pressed in on me… crushing me. I couldn't breathe. And then it was gone, lifted away... taking something with it, I think..." His hands dropped to his sides. "I felt lighter somehow, like I'd set something down and left it behind..." His eyes became unfocused as he stared at the wall. Then his voice tightened in anger. "What the hell was that? Who was that man?"

"Is that all you remember?"

Corey breathed in heavily. "At the moment."

The Doctor frowned. It wasn't enough. But the telepaths at the Proclamation might be able to help. "Would you be willing to tell your story? To me and to others, so we can find out the truth?"

He nodded quickly. "I'll tell anyone. I'll tell everyone you point me at who'll listen."

"Then get your coat. You're coming with me"

"Where?"

"To a space ship I've got parked three blocks away." He waited to gauge the boy's response.

"You wha..."

"Don't believe me?"

Corey exhaled. "This is the longest conversation I've had in over a decade; right now I'm ready to believe just about anything you have to say."

The Doctor reached into a discarded pile of clothing and tossed a blue parka to Corey. "It's not going to be easy you know. The things you'll see on the way may shake you as much as everything you just remembered."

Corey caught the coat and quickly put it on. "But they'll listen to me? They'll actually listen?

"I'll make them listen."

"Then I'm with you."

"Come on then."

They made their way down the flight of stairs and out of the building. The sun had vanished leaving only a weak rose color to the west. As they exited, Corey winced at the cold and the dwindling light.

"Don't get out much then?"

"Nah." Corey blinked. "I work nights."

"You manage to hold down a job. That's impressive." The Doctor nodded and glanced across the street. "This way then." He started past the stopped traffic and began moving to the other side; the foot falls of Corey close behind him.

The last of the light from the sunset faded as the Doctor neared the other side of the street. The sound of an accelerating engine filled his ears. Realization struck him. "Oh no... Corey!" As he started to turn, the wet crunch of metal on flesh sounded in the air as the boy past him, tossed forward onto the sidewalk. Corey's head hit the ice covered concrete with a loud crack.

For a moment, he seemed fine. He lay there, face up, looking more surprised than anything else. The Doctor rushed to his side. Corey tried to sit up, but only managed to raise himself a few inches before toppling back again.

"Steady now, don't try to move" said the Doctor. The boy looked up at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but instead a silent bubble of blood formed on his lips, burst, and ran down his chin.

Behind them, the woman drove her car through the intersection without a second glance.

The Doctor lifted Corey into his arms. His eyes had begun to dilate and the raspiness of his breathing indicated he wasn't getting enough air. "He needs help!" he shouted at a nearby pedestrian, who responded by reaching for his mobile phone and quickly making the 9-1-1 call.

Corey coughed violently and began to twitch. Somewhere beneath the liquid filling his lungs a voice began to rumble. "Don't try to talk." The Doctor told him. "It's going to be alright..." though he knew he was lying. Even as he cradled the boy's head he could feel blood pooling in his hand, and the internal bleeding was obviously severe. Corey had minutes at best.

The man with the mobile phone finished speaking to emergency services and then after a brief pause he wandered off, muttering that he'd be late if he didn't get moving. The Doctor looked around but there was no one else on the street. The traffic hurried by unaffected.

The boy suddenly became still, which was even more disturbing than the twitching had been. The white cloud of his breath in the cold air guttered down lower until it could barely be seen. "No... No Corey, I'm here, right now... stay with me."

Corey turned his head as much as he could, trying to focus on the Doctor's face. One iris was larger than the other and both eyes had begun to cloud with a pink tinge of blood. The Doctor wondered if the boy could really see him at all or had only responded to the sound of his voice. The boy said nothing, but in his eyes there was a sudden desperate plea. Then he relaxed. His breathing stopped, and the Doctor felt the weight of his body increase.

He continued to cradle the boy.

Moments later a police officer happened by. After a few short questions and a quick glance at Corey, he began to call in the Doctor's description of the woman and her car. Then he continued on his way.

The Doctor continued to cradle the boy.

The ambulance never came.