A short note about dates in this chapter: I realised I made an error in my original calculations by assuming "Doomsday" happened in 2006 in Pete's World. I forgot another three years had passed between "Age of Steel" and "Doomsday." So just for clarification, based on some fuzzy maths, this series assumes "Journey's End" happened in 2012 in Pete's World time and goes on from there.
PART II - The Doctor in the TARDIS with Rose Tyler
Chapter 7
Toshiko Sato was the last person still at the hub, but tonight it was for a very specific purpose. The Doctor was coming by to give his fledgling spaceship a check-up, and Tosh had come up with a brilliant way to help him. She accompanied the Doctor down to the abandoned storeroom and noticed how much happier he looked than the last time she'd seen him. He practically crowed when he found the coral had doubled in size, explaining that he'd had no guarantee it would grow at all in this universe.
"How long will it take to grow?" Tosh asked as she got swept up in the Doctor's enthusiasm.
"Normally it takes thousands of years, but I estimate it will be ready in twenty, maybe twenty-five years." He could bequeath it to his children if it ever came to that. Not that he was entirely sure that was even possible or if it was something Rose wanted.
"I might have a way to help you," Tosh said hesitantly, interrupting his thoughts. The Doctor turned his full attention to her. "I made some modifications to the dimension cannon by harnessing the Rift energy. I could send you forward in time to when the ship is complete."
"And then I can come back with the TARDIS," he added.
Toshiko led him to a room on the floor above that housed the dimension cannon so she could show him her schematics, and the Doctor pulled out a pair of glasses he didn't actually need to study them. "You've created a Vortex Manipulator centuries ahead of schedule. Well, centuries in the other universe at any rate."
The Doctor had an attack of conscience. For as often as he'd sabotaged Jack's Vortex Manipulator, he was considering the same thing. Then again, he was at least half Time Lord and less likely to derail the timeline than the immortal Jack Harkness or a human Time Agent.
It seemed simple enough. Pop over to the future, pick up the TARDIS, install a few mechanical components, and be back in time for dinner with Rose. The beauty of having a time machine, he thought. The plan wasn't without risk, of course. If something went wrong, he could get stuck in the future without a way back, a little voice warned him, but the idea of having a functioning TARDIS two decades earlier was just too enticing.
"How far into the future do you want to go?"
"Oh, I don't know, twenty-five years? I've got to go far enough that the TARDIS is ready but not so far that Cardiff's been destroyed."
Tosh looked alarmed. "Is that going to happen?"
"In this universe? I have no idea. Anything's possible." Timelines weren't as clear to him as they used to be, and he wasn't yet certain if it was a side effect of humanity or something to do with the parallel universe.
Tosh only looked mildly reassured. She typed coordinates into her computer whilst the Doctor returned to the TARDIS coral's room to gather the equipment he needed to take with him into a large rucksack. Tosh was ready by the time he returned. "You should arrive in this very spot in 2037." She hesitated. "Did you want to phone Rose first?"
The Doctor considered for a moment but shook off any doubt as a bit of low self-esteem inherited from Donna. "No, I'll be back in no time. Or maybe that's in time."
"Okay," she said slowly. "Good luck. In three, two, one…"
The room shimmered around him, and his body felt like it was being simultaneously compressed and pulled apart. Soon his surroundings solidified again, the slightly dingy white tile looking much the same as before. A sudden wave of nausea hit him—the downside of traveling without a capsule—but then he was aware of a shrieking alarm and a number of black-clad humans running and pointing large, nasty guns at him. Adrenaline swiftly pushed away any ill feelings from the journey accompanied by the stray thought that this may have been an entirely stupid idea after all.
One of the humans, a middle-aged man with sandy hair and thankfully no gun stepped forward. The heavy-set soldier looked intimidating and knew it. "Who are you and how did you get here?" he growled.
"Hello, I'm the Doctor," he replied cheerfully, quite proud of himself for not returning rudeness with more rudeness. He pulled out his Torchwood ID that had been so handy earlier. "And how I got here is a rather long story involving a biological metacrisis and time travel. Oh, and a girl. There's always a girl in these sorts of stories."
The man's already grim face contracted further with anger. "How did you get in here?"
"The front door. In 2012."
The man was going from angry to confused when another of the black-clad humans, a slight woman with dark hair pulled tightly in a low bun, interrupted him. "You should see this, sir." Her fingers slid across the paper-thin tablet she carried. A pale blue light appeared from the ceiling and swept around the room in a circle.
"Well, that's new," the Doctor commented.
"Positive identification," a disembodied feminine voice filled the room. "Doctor John Tyler, Torchwood Institute. Welcome to the Hub." The postures of the gun-toting soldiers visibly relaxed, but they didn't lower their weapons.
"Thank you," he replied to what he assumed was a computer. Rose would be so proud of his good manners considering how many weapons were currently pointed at him.
"You're not supposed to be here," the woman with the tablet stated. "This says—"
"Spoilers!" the Doctor shouted, cutting her off and slapping his hands over his ears. "I don't want to know what it says. In fact, I can't know. I've just come to collect something, and I'll be on my way."
"We can't allow that," the other man said brusquely. "Everything here is property of U.N.I.T."
"Oh, not you lot," the Doctor said in exasperation. As far as he knew, U.N.I.T. didn't yet exist in Pete's World, at least not as of 2012. "Of courseyou you lot don't even know who I am. I just need to get something I left in the storeroom here back when this was Torchwood. Not stealing."
The woman with the tablet took a step closer to him. "I'm Lieutenant Catherine Thompson, information officer. This is Captain Jones." She gestured to her grumpy commanding officer.
"Is everyone on this planet named Smith or Jones?" the Doctor asked cheekily.
Lieutenant Thompson raised an eyebrow and took the ID from the Doctor's hand. "That's rich coming from a man whose ID says John Smith."
Captain Jones wasn't amused. "How come the computer said Tyler?"
"Smith's my maiden name," the Doctor quipped, not actually knowing or wanting the real explanation. He could come up with a few different reasons for the alias, good and bad. "Now about my property?"
Jones narrowed his eyes and looked at Thompson. "Deal with him." He waved off the other soldiers and retreated down the hallway muttering obscenities mixed with "Torchwood." The soldiers shouldered their weapons and dispersed, leaving just a couple stationed in the room along with the Doctor and Lieutenant Thompson.
"How did you get here?" Thompson asked. "And why does the computer say you're seventy-four years old? You certainly don't look it."
"Well, I was standing in this room in 2012 and next thing I know, alarms are clanging and you lot are pointing big guns at me."
"You mean you travelled in time? But how?"
"Think we might check out that storeroom now?" he asked, ignoring her questions. He started for the hallway but she grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip.
"Answer my question, Doctor Tyler."
"Just the Doctor," he corrected amiably. Thompson's previously inquisitive disposition was replaced by an annoyed glare.
"Answer me, and then we'll go look for whatever it is you came forty years in the future for," she said sternly.
The Doctor's manic enthusiasm sobered. "Did you say forty? What year is it?"
"2052. Literally forty years."
"Blimey," he exclaimed putting a hand to the back of his head. "Tosh mucked that up. She was only supposed to send me twenty-five years. I knew it was too early for a Vortex Manipulator. I hope it's still here."
He started down the grey stone hallway once more, now with more urgency in every step, and this time Thompson followed him. "What's still there?"
"What I'm looking for."
Thompson grabbed the back of his jacket and tugged. "Are you always this impossible? What are you looking for?"
The Doctor glanced over his shoulder and gave her a mad grin that hid his deeper concern. "I like impossible." He pushed open the door to the storeroom and found it just as dusty though significantly more crowded than it was in 2012. Boxes and cabinets filled the room from floor to ceiling with narrow aisles spaced at even intervals. All of Tosh's equipment that had surrounded the growing TARDIS was gone. The Doctor sighed and desperately hoped that making this trip wasn't as fantastically idiotic as it was starting to look. "I don't suppose you've seen a blue police box around here."
Thompson gave him a blank look. "What's a police box?"
The Doctor frowned. "No, a brand new TARDIS would have a working chameleon circuit. It wouldn't look like a police box. It could be anything in here. Assuming it is in here." He felt a familiar brush against his mind and smiled brightly. Oh, this wasn't a stupid idea after all. It was brilliant! "Yep, it's definitely in here...somewhere."
"Don't you know what you're looking for?"
"Yes and no." Thompson stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate. "Yes, I know what I'm looking for, but I don't know what it looks like."
"How is that possible?" Thompson was losing patience with his roundabout answers.
"Highly intelligent camouflage. Fortunately, I brought my key." He pulled a silver Yale key on a long ball chain necklace from his pocket. "Technically it's Rose's key, so don't tell her I nicked it."
"Is it in a file cabinet, then?" she asked, looking at the key. She could swear it glowed slightly even though it looked like a standard, if slightly old-fashioned, key.
The Doctor looked around the room again. "Brilliant! If I wanted to hide in this mess of a room, that's exactly how I'd disguise myself."
He ran to the nearest of the tall floor-standing cabinets and inserted the key, but it wouldn't turn. He tried cabinet after identical cabinet, starting to feel discouraged as none of them opened. At the end of the second aisle, the key finally turned.
"Ha!" he shouted, flinging open the doors. A pile of dusty computer components rained down on his head. The circuit boards shattered as they hit the ground, brittle with age. Thompson was starting to think him mad despite the exemplary service record her tablet showed her. She stepped up beside him, trying to avoid treading on cables and broken bits of plastic and looked at the flimsy cabinet lock.
"Broken," she pronounced.
The Doctor shook off his discouragement and kept going until there was only one cabinet left in the storeroom. He inserted the key into the small round lock and closed his eyes.
