"Reading something interesting?" asked the Doctor, strolling into the gleaming white console room of his Tardis. His companion, Nyssa, was sitting in a corner, bent over a book. She didn't even notice that he'd entered the room. In fact, she seemed to be crying.
"Nyssa?" he asked again, a little more concerned.
Nyssa looked up at him, and blinked a few times, trying to separate the world of the book from the world around her. After a few seconds, her mind registered the Doctor's presence, and she frantically wiped the tears away from her eyes. "I'm sorry, Doctor," she said. "I didn't see you come in."
"What's wrong, Nyssa?" asked the Doctor. He sat beside her, gently removing the book from her hands. He glanced at the cover, and understood exactly what had happened. It was the Book of Olparn.
"Nothing, it's nothing," said Nyssa. "Just… memories. Of Trakken. Of my father." She took a long, deep breath, and composed herself. "Doctor, I'm sure I'm supposed to meet the author of that book. I could feel it as I was reading. She was talking about me, Doctor. That was my story."
"The book does that to everyone, Nyssa," the Doctor told her. "Every companion I've ever had has been convinced that they must meet Karen Hollburn at some point in the future, and none of them ever have. It's just the way the book is written. It speaks to everyone, at least a little bit."
"Have you met her, Doctor?" Nyssa asked.
The Doctor tried to stop his hands from shaking, but he wasn't doing a very good job of that. "Well, no," he said. "And I rather think I'm not going to. At least, not any time soon."
Nyssa noticed the shaking hands. She must have noticed the tinge of fear in his voice as well, because she knew exactly what he was thinking.
"You think she might turn into another Darzil Carlisle, don't you?" Nyssa asked.
The Doctor hesitated. "Well, there are one or two passages in the book…"
"You said that everyone who reads this book thinks it's about them," said Nyssa. "So why would the book be about you?"
"It's complicated," said the Doctor. "You see, before I read that book, I was a very different person. The Book of Olparn changed me, so to speak. Broadened my horizons, let me see the universe as it really was. So about a century ago, I thought, why not go back and meet the woman who changed the world? Why not go back and meet Karen Hollburn herself?"
"But you didn't?" Nyssa asked.
"No," said the Doctor. "Because I found that the Time Lords had already created a fixed point around Karen Hollburn. They'd set up a cordon of time around the whole of Las Vegas in 2008. Time Lords only do that to stabilize a paradox, Nyssa, and considering when the cordon was set up, I can guess why they did it."
Nyssa looked at him in dawning comprehension. "You don't think that you were just the influence behind Karen Hollburn," she realized. "You think that you actually wrote this book yourself."
The Doctor looked down at the book in his hands. "Yes, I'm afraid I do," he admitted. "It certainly would explain a lot."
"I don't think you wrote it, Doctor," Nyssa told him. "It doesn't sound like your voice."
"No, not this me," said the Doctor. "But there are twelve other versions of me wandering around in space and time."
Nyssa took the book back into her hands. "I know you didn't write the book, Doctor," she insisted. "Call it a gut instinct, but I have a feeling you're reading too much into this." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Besides, what if she isn't like Darzil Carlisle? What if she's just as clever and bright and peace-loving as she comes across in this book?"
The Doctor tried to feel reassured, but he couldn't quell his fears. He leapt up from the chair and bounded towards the console. "Time for a trip, I think. How does Stockbridge, England sound to you?"
Grissom hadn't been surprised to hear that the Doctor had broken out of jail. He was certain they were going to have to let him go at some point, anyways. There was only so far that a signed confession could take him, when none of the evidence backed up his story.
Grissom had known at the time that the Doctor hadn't done it. For one thing, the crime had been executed sloppily. The gun was left at the crime scene, clearly dropped from the gunman's hands. It had been a registered firearm, registered to a man named Jeffrey Tailor, who turned out to be Karen Hollburn's ex-boyfriend. When they arrived at Jeffrey Tailor's house, they found him completely drunk, and still angry as hell at the way that Karen had ditched him. Tailor's fingerprints were all over the gun, and there were traces of blood on the bottoms of Jeffrey's shoes. Shoes that matched the footprints found at the crime scene.
Jeffrey Tailor, of course, denied everything.
It was all spectacularly straight forward, everything falling into place. Except for one thing, one large, extra anomaly that meant that none of this was even remotely as simple as it looked.
The Doctor.
First, there was the fake bomb threat that had taken most of the police officers away from the station. When they returned, they found the remaining policemen unconscious, and they found that the Doctor had escaped.
An hour later, Catherine crashed into Grissom's office, asking if he'd seen Lindsey. "Her car is still outside," said Catherine. "But I haven't seen her and she isn't answering her phone."
Lindsey's car remained where it was for three hours, and still, there was no sign of either Lindsey or the Doctor. Catherine was growing more and more hysterical by the minute, and nobody could really blame her. Finally, Grissom decided to send her home. For her own sanity, he'd said.
And then Catherine had called him.
"Someone broke into the house," said Catherine.
It took a certain amount of time to determine why Catherine was so sure that it was an intruder that had entered the house, and not just Lindsey coming home. Apparently, the burglar alarm had been tripped briefly, before the mechanism was destroyed. Other than that, there was no harm done to Catherine's house.
"No harm?" shouted Catherine. "Lindsey is missing!"
"But her car is here," said Grissom. "And the alarm was tripped at 6:45. That was an hour before we saw her at the station."
A half an hour later, three different fires began at once. They were in three different churches of three different denominations, and they were all obviously arson. Grissom was beginning to feel his team was being stretched a little too thin. He had to call in both the swing team and the day team to help out. When he first began investigating the arson cases, he had been certain the Hollburn case was all wrapped up. But then he found the name that someone had graffitied on the wall of the half-burned church he was examining—and, he found out later, on the wall of every church that had been attacked that night.
"Ka-Faraq-Gatri."
It was a little past midnight, and Grissom was pacing around the outside of the police station, trying to put everything together. This must have been what Sara felt like, back in San Francisco on New Year's Eve, 2000. A bunch of seemingly random cases all turning up at once, all revolving around the Doctor. The Doctor was clever, manipulative, and completely unpredictable. He wanted something, that much was clear to Grissom. The question was, what?
The obvious answer was that the Doctor had come back for Lindsey, but that didn't explain the arson or the incident with Karen Hollburn. Grissom turned the possibilities over in his mind, but he couldn't come up with any satisfactory explanation that would encompass everything that had happened that evening.
He thought he felt a sudden gust of wind, and heard a sound that he recognized from five years ago. A sort of wheezing, groaning sound. Sure enough, on the other side of the parking lot, Grissom could see a blue police box fading into existence. He was pretty sure he could guess the two people who were inside. He began walking towards it.
"How long has it been this time?" Grissom asked Lindsey Willows, as she and the Doctor piled out of the Tardis. He noticed that she was still wearing the same clothes as the last time he saw her, which he felt was a good sign. Less than a day, then.
Lindsey was either ignoring him, or hadn't heard him. She was examining the cell phone in her hand. She looked up at the Doctor as he shut the doors of his police box.
"Doctor," she said. "You told me you'd get me back here the moment we left." She waved the phone in his face. "It's midnight now! Mom must be worried sick."
"Well," said the Doctor, rubbing the back of his neck. "At least it wasn't a year."
Grissom was beside the police box by the time that Lindsey had called her mother to explain. He could hear Catherine's voice bleeding through the phone.
"So," said Grissom to the Doctor.
The Doctor turned around, his coat swirling behind him. He noticed Grissom, and began to look sheepish. He was bouncing from one foot to the other, his hands in his pocket, glancing occasionally over at Lindsey as if she could somehow get him out of this confrontation.
Lindsey, however, was still dealing with her mom.
"Gil Grissom!" The Doctor said. "Lovely to see you again. Sorry about the escape. Had some things to do, people to see, paradoxes to put straight. You know. Anyways, I'd love to stay and chat, but we really… should… be going…" The Doctor gave one last hopeful glance at Lindsey, but she was still on the phone.
"What do you want?" asked Grissom.
"Nothing, nothing," said the Doctor. He was now rolling on his feet between his heal and toe, and Grissom could tell that the one thing the Doctor really wanted was to get away from him.
"Are you going to explain about the churches?" asked Grissom.
That got the Doctor's attention. He stopped glancing over at Lindsey and gave Grissom his full attention, his feet now still. "Churches," he mused. "This wouldn't happen to be the Olparn church that Lindsey was just telling me about?"
"No," said Grissom. "These are the multiple arson cases that sprung up across Los Vegas tonight, while you and Lindsey were missing. The ones with 'Ka-Faraq-Gatri' graffitied on the walls. The only person I know who has the ability to be in three places at once is you. So I figure, you're the most likely suspect."
"Well, I'd hardly go to a building, burn it to the ground, then stand around in the flames to write a rather unflattering nickname of mine on the walls," the Doctor pointed out.
"Where were you and Lindsey at 10:00?" asked Grissom.
The Doctor groaned. "Oh, not this again," he said. "As I told you last time, I haven't been to 10:00 yet. I haven't been to 8:00, or 9:00, or 10:00, or 11:00, or any of those other times. The last time I was at was 6:45."
"Presumably to break Catherine's burglar alarm," said Grissom.
The Doctor looked sheepish again. "Sorry about that," he said. "It was a little annoying. I'll drop by and fix it for her later."
Grissom looked over to where Lindsey was still trying to placate her mother. "To be honest, I don't think that Catherine is that taken with you at the moment."
The Doctor nodded. "I never get along with people's mothers," he said.
"Maybe it's because you abduct their daughters," Grissom pointed out.
The Doctor looked offended. "I do not abduct people," he said, giving a little pout. He was starting to bounce around on his feet again. "And I certainly didn't abduct Lindsey. I dropped her off not a minute after I left. Safe and sound, no harm done."
"And then you left me for five years," said Lindsey, who had finished her conversation. She pointed at him. "And I had to threaten you with a temporal paradox to get you to take me with you again." A smile crept across her face. "Hey, does that mean that I was the one abducting you?" she asked.
"How's your mother?" Grissom asked her.
"Angry," said Lindsey. "She wanted me to account for all the time I'd been away, and I don't think she believed me when I said it had been less than an hour since I'd last seen her."
The Doctor turned to her. "Ready?"
"Ready as ever," Lindsey replied.
Grissom cleared his throat, and they both looked at him in confusion. "You can't just leave, you know," Grissom said to the Doctor. "You're our primary suspect for these arson cases."
"Oh, give it a rest," the Doctor said. "You're an intelligent man, Grissom. You know I didn't do it."
"No," said Grissom. "But I know this all has something to do with you."
The Doctor pulled a hand through his hair, and took a deep breath. "All right," he said. "I'll give you that." He gestured at Lindsey. "We're going off to try and find out what all this has to do with me. If you stop complaining at me and don't tell her mother, I'll come back and let you know what we find. Deal?"
Grissom hesitated. Lindsey was already pulling out the keys to her car, and opening the door. "Come on, Doctor!" she called. "Time's a wasting!"
The Doctor looked at Grissom one more time, before he ran off and jumped inside of Lindsey's car. Before Grissom had a chance to even run back into the police station and ask for help, the car had faded into the distance, and both Lindsey and the Doctor were gone.
The Doctor sat in the front seat, stroking the dashboard of Lindsey's car as if he were petting a cat. "Nice car," he said.
Lindsey laughed at him. "Are you kidding?" she asked. "This thing is on its last legs. Mom keeps saying she'll get me something more reliable, but so far it hasn't happened."
"I'd keep the car," said the Doctor. He winked at her.
"You're just attached to methods of transport that are old and blue," Lindsey said. She glanced over at him and grinned. "Admit it, Doctor. You're stroking that dashboard like it's the Tardis console."
The Doctor gave her a small grin. "They both have a lot of personality."
Lindsey hit the side of the steering wheel with her hand. For no discernable reason, this action made the left blinker turn on. Lindsey flicked it off. "Personality, you say."
The Doctor gave the dashboard a friendly pat. "She didn't mean it, old girl," he said to the car, as if he were talking to the Tardis.
It didn't take them long before Lindsey pulled over and parked on the side of the road. "They're over there," said Lindsey, pointing to a small, white painted building across the street.
The building was short, squat, without the flashing lights or gaudy excess you'd expect on a building surrounded by casinos. It was just white, with a black door and a few medium sized windows along the sides. Along the top was a sign that read, "The Olparn Church."
Seeing as it was midnight, Lindsey had expected any churches in the area to be closed. But this one was bustling with activity. All the lights were on, and she could see movement in the windows.
"People!" said the Doctor, as he climbed out of the car. "And here I was thinking that everyone would be asleep."
"What are we going to do?" she asked.
The Doctor put his hands in his pockets, and began to wander towards the church. "Well," he said. "I was planning on knocking on the door."
Lindsey raced after him, catching his arm. "Doctor," Lindsey said, a hint of nervousness leaking into her voice. "They're from the future, trying to murder a peacemaker from the past. I don't think they're going to just sit down and talk."
"Of course they will," said the Doctor, jumping onto the sidewalk. "Never underestimate the power of a nice chat and a cup of tea." He raced over to the door and gave a polite knock.
Lindsey recognized the sound that came from inside. It was the sound of shouting, followed by the cocking of guns.
"Doctor," said Lindsey, now in a whisper, "they have guns."
"Yes," said the Doctor, at his normal volume. "They do."
Lindsey gestured to the both of them. "We don't."
The Doctor flashed her a smile. "Of course we don't."
The door flew open, and the pair found themselves confronted by a large group of people all armed with guns. Lindsey had never before found herself face to face with this many loaded guns. A man at the front grunted at them to put up their hands, and Lindsey did so with trepidation.
The Doctor, on the other hand, acted as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "Hello," he said. "I'm the Doctor, and this is Lindsey. We were just passing by and we thought, 'Olparn Church, that's what we need! A bit of salvation to make us sleep easier at night.' Isn't that right, Lindsey?"
"Yes," said Lindsey, a little uneasily. "What he said."
"Hands up!" The man grunted again. "You cops?"
The Doctor raised his hands, but he still didn't seem bothered by anything that was going on. Lindsey wondered how many times he usually came face to face with a large number of loaded firearms.
"Nope," said the Doctor. "Like I said. Just wandering around, saw the church, liked the name. Olparn church. Olparn, Olparn… very nice. Good sound. Resonant. Hints of 26th century vernacular, don't you think, Lindsey?"
Lindsey didn't say anything this time.
She was sure the man was going to shoot them, when she heard a shout of alarm come from further inside the building. The voice came from inside the church, commanding the men to lower their guns and lead the pair inside.
The Doctor clearly recognized the voice. He tried to see through the crowd of people to get a better look at the man advancing towards them, but he didn't have to in order to identify who it was. "Joseph Trudge," said the Doctor.
"He has returned!" cried Trudge, pulling the Doctor inside. "The Doctor has returned to shower us with his favor!"
The Doctor was quickly engulfed by the armed men, and swallowed up as he was pulled inside the church. Lindsey pushed her way through, trying to follow him, but it took her a while to make it through the wall of men that surrounded the door.
By the time that Lindsey had caught up to the Doctor, she found him staring at a banner that was hung across the ceiling. His face no longer held any hint of his cheerful disposition. He was very still, scarcely even breathing.
"That," said the Doctor, very quietly, "is very, very disturbing."
On the banner was written the phrase:
"For Our Lord and Master, the Doctor."
