The Smoking Gun
There had been 30 cases in England alone. The Doctor had ruled out the water as not enough people were being adversely affected. Were the clothes perhaps picking up harmful molecules from somewhere? No. Careful examination ruled that possibility out. The Doctor examined diet, work spaces, social gathering spots, and stores. Nothing accounted for the mysterious deaths plaguing Europe. These deaths were concentrated in Great Britain, France, Italy, Sweden, Spain, and Germany. The deaths were also limited to the major metropolitan areas. The Doctor listed "consumer goods" as the principle suspect. He cataloged everything Ozma had in her possession and examined every single one of them. He realized that something was missing.
He leaned back from the microscope that the Captain had provided him and looked around his makeshift laboratory and found who he was searching for. Ozma dozed in a chair, still not fully recovered from her ordeal. The Doctor felt that he owed her a debt of gratitude for naming him just as she felt that she owed him a debt of gratitude for saving her life. "Ozma," he said. Her head jerked upright when her name was called. "I believe that you have forgotten something."
She stood, drowsy and walked over to him. "No, that was everything."
"Everything? Is there not a ritual that women of this world perform to enhance their appearance? Doesn't that involve a chemical compound?"
"My makeup?" she said, her face showing confusion, then she brightened. "You suspect we are being poisoned."
"No, as I said before, you are being drained. I merely suspect a potential catalyst. Tell me what cosmetics you wear and which companies."
Ozma thought a moment. "I wear hair cream to keep my hair under control. I wear blush, some eye shadow, those pretty much every day. I don't wear foundation or concealer unless I'm going to a party. No mascara either. I wear fingernail polish. It's all made by Eden."
The Doctor listened with a passive face. "I would like to examine these products. Tell me everything you know about Eden."
"Not much. One of their CEOs is in the news all the time. A woman who is only known as Rani."
The Doctor's face darkened. "Rani. I see. Things begin to add up. Very well. Go fetch some Eden for me. It is high time I examined it very carefully."
Once the Doctor had the products he began to examine samples of them. First, he noted the chemical interactions, as he mixed the samples with various chemicals he had mixed to equate various effects. His findings were intriguing. Next, he examined the compounds to determine what they were made of. What he found disturbed him. He called the Captain and Mr. Ichiba to his lab.
As he was explaining what he found to Captain Lethbridge-Stewart, the Captain said, "Doctor, could you explain exactly what on Earth vellatigen is?"
"Well, that's exactly it, Captain," said the Doctor, "it is nothing that has ever been on Earth until now, and because of its nature, it is technically not on Earth even now."
The Captain sneered. "Is it even possible to clarify that statement?"
"With a bit of explanation, yes. It requires a basic understanding of a certain science that you likely do not possess, but can be educated on. I should say a very basic level. Time travel."
The Captain rolled his eyes. "Doctor, you've done some impressive things and we all owe you a debt of gratitude, but time travel is a bit much, don't you think?"
"No," said the Doctor flatly, "I don't. My dear Captain, today, you have met a man that you can safely reason is not of this world. Would you have believed it yesterday?"
"No."
"Do you believe it now?"
The Captain seemed to search the room, "I'm open to the possibility, though I'm still not convinced."
"Well, I am convinced, and when it comes to defining me, my opinion is the only one that matters." The Doctor glared at the Captain. "Very well, don't believe me, but if you want an explanation, you'll have to suspend your disbelief."
"All right, Doctor. I'll play along. Disbelief is now officially held in suspense."
The Doctor nodded in acceptance of the implied challenge: make Captain Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart believe. "First, you must understand that you, that is to say, humans are not the oldest civilization in this universe. You aren't even the oldest civilization on this planet. Your planet isn't the oldest inhabited one in the galaxy let alone the universe. While other nations of this world feebly attempt to shoot ridiculous steel shafts at the moon, other worlds are lazily commuting between worlds as easily as you walk to your neighbor's house. Most of them are content to leave each other alone, but some are not.
"Captain, if a man can visit this world from another world, rest assured that no matter how primitive his technology may be to most, to you it is sophisticated beyond your wildest imagination. Of all the civilizations in the universe, mine is the oldest; so old in fact, that many of us are convinced that we are gods, or should somehow be allowed to become gods. I was once intimate with a woman who holds that very belief, that she is a goddess, and that it is her right to take what alien world she might and use it as she will. She calls herself the Rani."
The Captain's eyebrows narrowed. "That sounds familiar."
"It should. Our training includes the study of certain developing species, including Earth. She discovered her name when she heard an ancient Hindu myth."
The Captain said, "I served in India for a time..." his eyes searched a scene that only he could see. "Rani means queen."
"Indeed."
"Pretentious."
"Pretentious enough for the kind of megalomania I have just described?"
Ozma said, "Wait! I just told you about the founder of Eden. Her name is Rani."
"Yes. It is one the clues that has helped me to develop my theory. Shall I continue my explanation?"
"Go on," said the Captain.
"Millions upon millions of years ago, my people were like you; struggling with science and rationale and yet clinging to childish superstitions and religions. Unfortunately, for us, with our natural abilities, magic was all too real. Three scientists, Rassilon, Omega, and meh-one of my ancestors challenged the priestesses of Pythia, a group of witches that ruled my world. It was civil war, with Rassilon and the leader of the Pythia locked in a titanic power struggle. Rassilon succeeded because Omega developed a device called that he named the Hand of Omega. With it, he turned a star in a neighboring star-system into a black hole. Unfortunately, he was drawn into it, but in doing so, he created the Eye of Harmony; the power source that gave us the power to travel through time. With that power, Rassilon navigated the history of our world and undid all of the great works of the Pythias, essentially destroying them by erasing their history.
"Rassilon and my ancestor set to work discovering the secrets of time travel and they learned that there were three substances that were unique to the interdimensional vortex."
"Don't tell me," said the Captain, "one was vellatigen."
"Precisely, and the properties of vellatigen are at work in our victims. It rejuvenates old and unstable tissue while destroying new tissue. What the police and news media haven't taken note of are a handful of miraculous instances of age reversal. 60, 70, and 90 year old women are literally reporting that they now have the bodies they had when they were 20. Could such a thing be medically possible? No, only the reversal of time could explain such a complete rejuvenation. Meanwhile, young women across Europe are dying of unknown causes."
"Well, to what end, Doctor? Why put a substance as clearly valuable as this vellatigen in makeup and victimize youths that the perpetrator will likely never meet?"
"That brings me to the next property of vellatigen. It doesn't exist in this dimension. Only an echo of the substance exists here and that echo is what is put in the makeup. The source material cannot be moved from its point of origin. It has been generated."
"And whatever this substance takes out of the victims can be found in the source."
"Precisely. The perpetrators are collecting something from these girls. What they intend for it, I can only guess, perhaps some much more potent concoction that they intend to use for themselves."
"But what could they be taking from these girls?"
Ozma said, "Our vitality. Our essence. That's what they are taking."
The Captain's jaw quivered. "A horrifying tale, but too outlandish to accept outright."
"Then you don't believe me," said the Doctor.
"That's the problem. I believe every blasted word of it." He ran his hands over face. "By God, none of the pieces seem to fit, yet it becomes clear that the only way they do fit is if you are telling the truth. Death can be rationally explained. What you did can't. There are no answers and then you tell this ridiculous story can't be a lie because it is the only thing that explains you." He looked at the Doctor. "What do we do?"
The Doctor rubbed his chin. "Obviously, if you act based on what I have told you, you would be removed from duty pending an evaluation." The Doctor pondered for a moment. "Perhaps you can arrange for me to meet the Rani."
"I can't just pencil in an appointment for you to meet a global fashion celebrity. You'll have to be worth her time."
"Tell her that I am a contending makeup artist who has discovered the secret to her formula and that I declare her a charlatan. Make certain to mention vellatigen somewhere in the request. That's sure to catch her attention."
Mr. Ichiba said, "But if this isn't the Rani you knew, there could be trouble. Look at a picture and see if you recognize her."
"I doubt that would do any good. Remember that we are time travelers. This is the first planet I have ever visited outside of Gallifrey. I am a mere 21 of your years old. The Rani, on the other hand, may have been traveling for centuries. You see, we are long lived, but our bodies are not. When they grow weak, we survive by regenerating. She probably looks like a completely different person now, especially if hundreds of years have passed for her. No, I am afraid a confrontation is the only way to verify her identity. No matter, I am certain of it. The vellatigen is the smoking gun."
