Chapter Seven: All My Sins Remembered

Amy would have been pacing, but her dress restricted any nervous movement beyond drumming her fingers against her dressing table in between adjusting the jewelled clips holding her complicated hairstyle in place for the fourth time. She forced herself to leave it at that, any more fiddling would just result in the whole arrangement unravelling.

She had followed the Doctor's instructions and kept as close to the king as she could, but that had just resulted in more time spent sitting in the corner of his study while he worked like she was a normal bored girl waiting for her boyfriend to finish his public health coursework. It had only lasted half an hour before they both parted to get ready for the celebration itself. She reassured herself that surrounded by stewards and guards, nothing was going to happen to him. She was less certain about the Doctor, and wished she knew where he was, whether he had found a monster in the secret tunnels or whether he had just gotten lost on a sight-seeing tour of the castle's foundations.

The mix of tension, boredom and frustration was starting to become unbearable again. Luckily, before she was able to take out her frustration on her hair or her dress, there was a knock at the door.

"Yeah? Who is it?"

"Phineas, Lady Amelia."

"Hi. How are you?"

"I am well, Lady Amelia. Is the Doctor with you?"

Amy opened the door. "Um… no. He's gone for a walk again. I don't know when he'll be back."

"His Majesty has sent me to escort you to the Great Hall," Phineas told her, looking past her as though he didn't really believe her.

"That's sweet. Is it time then?"

"It is time, Lady Amelia."

He walked slowly so she could keep up with him. "When will the Doctor be joining us?"

"Oh, he'll be along." Amy waved her hand vaguely. "Unless he's late."

"Is he likely to be late?"

"It's… happened. Does it matter?"

"Lady Amelia… an empty seat at the High Table would not look good for His Majesty. However… the Doctor's position is High Physician in absentia. And… his will not be the only empty seat today."

"I'm sorry," Amy said, feeling as though she'd had to say that far too many times today. "You must have known the Apothecary and Telamon pretty well."

Phineas nodded. "Yes, Lady Amelia. The Household Staff has always been close. A lucky few are close to His Majesty as well. I believe he will be as good a ruler as his father, and as good a man."

"Did you know his father too?" Amy asked.

"I am the Royal Chamberlain," Phineas replied. "I oversee the running of the king's Household and his home. I knew him very well. But I was not his friend."

"I don't see how you could know all that and not be his friend."

"Friendship requires trust, Lady Amelia. You should know that."

She hesitated, lagging behind him, then asked cautiously, "Are you okay?"

He turned to her and sighed. "Forgive me, Lady Amelia. I have been under a great strain of late. I spoke out of turn."

Amy gave him a bright smile. "Nothing to worry about. I won't tell if you won't."

Phineas nodded and did not speak for the rest of the walk to the Great Hall. It was only half full, this time; many of the guests were clearly still getting ready. Amy paused and looked around, looking for anyone familiar or anyone suspicious. All that was notable was that the absence of guests made the presence of the green-jacketed guards even more obvious, but she told herself there was nothing unusual in that.

Phineas led her to her place on the High Table and pulled out her chair for her. He gave an uncertain look at the chair were the Doctor would sit if he ever arrived and then walked away. Amy sat, still watching the hall with no idea what she was looking for. The minutes past as it slowly filled with guests, all of them awaiting the coming of the king.


The Doctor charged out of the catacombs and into the portrait gallery. He didn't even bother to pull the passageway door closed behind him as he hurried out of the darkness and into the dull orange light, making straight for the double doors.

And then, half way there, he skidded to a stop and swung around.

"I missed something… what did I miss?"

He rushed over to the wall and fumbled with the switch for the lights. With a hiss, the light in the room went from orange to yellow to white until the knob clicked against its stopper.

The Doctor ran back over to the pictures and followed them until he reached the quintet of green-clad rulers that were Harulan's immediate predecessors. He stood ten paces from the wall, eyes dancing over all of the men and women in the portraits. Then he crossed the distance and pressed himself as close as he could to the wall while still looking up at the life-sized images, hands gripping the wall as if he wanted to climb into the pictures and demand answers from their occupants. He only spent a few seconds on each of the five, finishing with Harulan III, who he stared at with such intensity that it seemed like the painted king might blink and look away.

Then he walked slowly away towards the passageway entrance. The screwdriver buzzed over the opening mechanism for a second and as the Doctor flicked his wrist to look at the result, he gave a weary smile.

"Yes… of course…"

Then, from far away, echoing through the stonework of the castle, he heard the Peladonian anthem begin. His smile vanished. He looked at his watch.

"Oh no…"


Amy tried to stay sitting up straight in her chair, just in case someone was watching. The Hall was almost uncomfortably bright, lit electrically for the benefit of the cameras. The tables were almost full now. Everyone not involved in the procession was in the hall and finding their seats or positions. The only ones still moving about were the camera crews, who stood out from the multi-coloured throng in their incredibly plain dark suits.

Currently, they were all grouped together, huddled in some sort of technical discussion. She watched them, trying to make out what they were saying over the bustle in the hall. Then, as she turned her head, she thought she saw a flicker of green in the corner of her eye. Her head jerked back, but there was nothing there, just one of the cameras. But she was alert now, bolt upright, scanning the hall carefully, trying to pick out details rather than just the crowd. If there was one thing that her life with the Doctor had taught her, it was to beware unexplained things in the corner of her eye.

But keeping her eye on everything that was going on in the hall at once was impossible and she had to keep her head still to avoid drawing attention. She quickly ran out of things to look at as the last of the guests sat down and it was just the camera crews finishing their setup. Amy watched one of them at random hurrying across the hall in front of her, but her attention was flagging, so when he passed in front of a figure in dark green, it took her a moment to realise and look back. There was no one there.

Amy gently nudged the woman sitting next to her and pointed at the empty space in the centre of the hall. "Did you see that?"

"See what, Lady Amelia?"

Before Amy could explain, the last of the camera crews gave a signal and Phineas came forward. "My lords, ladies and gentlemen. Good evening. In light of the… events of this afternoon, we have decided that the celebration will no longer be transmitted live. Never the less, please do not do anything that will increase the amount of editing more than necessary."

That made Amy smile and got a few laughs from around the room. Phineas smiled back in appreciation and turned towards the door. He was half way to the door when he passed in front of something that, for a second, made him flicker like Amy was viewing him through a heat haze. But it only lasted an instant and no one else seemed to see it.

"Doctor," she murmured, "where are you?"

One of the stewards gave a signal, silence fell in the Great Hall and the TV cameras – controlled remotely by the crew who were now safely out of sight – came to life. The great hall doors swung open and the Peladonian Anthem began.

As the first notes crashed through the hall, Amy glanced back at the spot she had seen the shimmer. For just a second, there was a green shadow standing in the centre of the hall. She wanted to call out but had no idea what to say.

The procession flowed into the hall, led by Phineas. One slow, regal step at a time, he led it through the doors, past the lower tables and towards the point where it would separate. But then Amy saw him stare ahead, his eyes wide at the point between the cameras and in front of the lectern. He almost flinched, almost hesitated, only supreme self-control kept him moving forward.

Amy could see what frightened him. It wasn't a shadow anymore, no longer featureless. She could see the different shades of green and the textures of the clothes. She could see the limbs and the shoes and gloves on their ends. She could see the features of the face that surveyed the room.

And she realised that it wasn't just her. It wasn't just Phineas. Everyone else could see him too.

Gasps of horror, whispered exclamations, hissed demands filled the room beneath the unrelenting roar of the music no one thought to stop.

In the centre of the room, the spectre of Harulan III slowly and silently raised an arm and pointed a long finger imperiously at Phineas.

And the lights went out.


The Doctor ran through the castle corridors towards the music. He held the screwdriver out in front of him, waving it back and forth with the tip pointing at the ceiling. The light at the tip was pulsing green, and as he ran the pulses were getting brighter and brighter and closer and closer together.

He was getting close now, feeling the anthem through his feet, taking the route he'd been escorted down earlier in the day, looking for one particular door. He reached the right corridor and hurried down it, pirouetting so he could scan the doors on either side of the corridor scanning the doors on either side of him. The third door on the right bore the sign he was looking for: Power Maintenance.

The door wasn't locked. He pulled it open and sprang inside. The room was empty. The Doctor scratched his head uncertainly, looked at the sign on the door, and then back at the room.

"That's… odd…"

He looked at his shoes, and then noticed he was standing on a hatch. Then he noticed there were four more hatches in the room's floor, three around the edges and one in the centre. Crouching down by the nearest, the Doctor pulled it open to find a web of interconnecting conduits meeting in a junction box. He opened the others to find the same pattern, but with different arrangements of conduits and boxes.

He stood in between them and twirled slowly on the spot. "Eenie… menie… minie…"

Then he noticed that the light on the screwdriver had stopped pulsing. It was now blazing bright green.

"Never mind."

He jumped over the hatches, landed in the doorway and spun back to face the room. His eyes scanned the far wall as he unclipped the sonic disruptor from his waist.

"Sorry," he said, in case anyone was listening.

Then he fired the disruptor at the wall.

The weapon's scream filled the room, making him wince even as he adjusted the controls to increase the power. The room groaned as the soundwaves trapped inside it crashed into the walls and reverberated with no means of escape except to transfer their energy beyond the stonework and into the fragile crystal and plastic central heating system beyond it.

Five seconds seemed to last for an eternity and the Doctor wondered if he'd ever hear anything but the artificial scream again, when the walls gave a cry audible above the shriek of the disruptor and the stonework split outwards. A torrent of water burst through the fracture, spraying across the room and crashing down into the open safety hatches.

For a moment, the Doctor's smile was illuminated by the brilliant flash of a thousand sparks, and then all the lights went out.


The music stopped as the lights went out. In the deafening silence that followed, Amy blinked quickly, trying to get a sense of what was happening in the darkness in front of her. Around here there were crashes as chairs fell backwards, thumps and cries as people collided in the dark, and then the babble of desperate voices that slowly grew deafening as everyone tried to shout over each other.

It was only a few seconds before the first torch flashed on from somewhere near the main doors, then another, this one from the galleries. The beams played wildly across the hall, creating the impression of a frieze that jerked and shifted between blinks. It was not until the third torch came on and focussed on the procession that Amy realised that the image of the old king had vanished. And so had Phineas.

Looking wildly from one side to the other, the growing light allowed her to see that one of the smaller doors was swinging closed. Without thinking, she sprang to her feet, pulling at her dress to keep from tripping, and pushed her way through the growing panic towards the door. She had to shove several nobles out of the way to reach it, and just as she did, she heard the voice of the major-domo boom out, calling for calm. But then she was through the door and back into the dim, gas-lit corridors.

As the noise behind her faded and died, she could hear footsteps hammering away down the passage. She kicked off her high heels and ran after them.

The corridor wound but didn't fork, and she ignored its branches. She thought she was gaining on the source of the sound, but then there was the noise of a slamming door and the footsteps stopped. She kept running, bare feet slipping on smooth stone, until she came to another set of embossed doors, and, hardly slowing, pushed through them into a room she'd never seen before.

It shone. All the furniture seemed to be made of polished metal that glowed brilliantly in the blaze of the candles used to light it. The carpets and hangings were the finest blend of a thousand colours that came together in patterns which danced across the walls and floors. The sight brought her to a stop, even before she saw the raised platform bearing a throne made of heavy, dark wood and inlayed with coils of silver.

Phineas was on his knees in front of the throne. Amy blinked, and suddenly she could see the figure of the old king standing above him.

"How?" the old man whispered. "How is this possible?"

The ghost said nothing. It took a step closer to the Chamberlain and reached out to him. Phineas recoiled and scrambled across the carpet.

"You cannot be here, sire! You cannot! You died! This is impossible!"

Amy stood, frozen to the spot, unable to move, looking back and forth between the spectre and the man on the floor.

"Did they see you?" Phineas scrambled to his feet. "Did Telamon and the Apothecary see you too? Is that why? Then you must know I did nothing. I kept their secret. I made sure it was kept. I had no choice."

"What secret?"

Amy turned. She hadn't seen Harulan come in, but he was standing beside one of the tapestries. There was a secret door behind it, she realised.

"What secret?" the king repeated.

"Sire?" Phineas tore his eyes from the ghost, and Amy saw tears in them. "Your Majesty? No… no, I cannot…"

"Harulan…" Amy began.

He gave her a surprised look, as though he hadn't noticed her before. "Amy… Lady Amelia, you should not be here."

"Why?"

Harulan ignored her, striding over to the Chamberlain. "What secret, Phineas? What secret did you keep? Tell me. Tell him."

Amy glanced back and forth between the king and the ghost of his father. "Wait, you can see him?"

"What secret, Phineas?" Harulan demanded again.

"No…" the old man whimpered. "Your Majesty… no."

"Confess!"

"That's enough, Your Majesty."

Amy felt her heart leap into her throat. The words were quiet, but they got the attention of everyone in the room. The only head that didn't turn was the spectre's.

The Doctor strode through the throne room. Even he could see the ghost now, standing beside Phineas and the king. They, like Amy, were frozen to the spot, waiting to see what he would do.

"Your Majesty," he said. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Amy repeated. "Sorry for what?"

The Doctor gave her a reassuring smile and then turned back to the king. "I failed in my duty as your High Physician. If I'd realised what I was looking at earlier, two men might still be alive. I know you didn't mean for them to die."

"Doctor, what are you talking about?" Amy demanded.

"There is no ghost, Pond," the Doctor replied. "It's just a projection. The effects of a psychic technology based on something borrowed from the Sensorites. It reaches into the target's mind and finds a source of guilt and sorrow, and makes them see it in front of them."

"Why?"

Harulan took a deep breath. "To make the men responsible for my father's death tell me the truth. Amy… he wasn't alone on the battlements when he died. The Apothecary was there, and so was Telamon. And Phineas helped them cover it up."

Amy stepped back, anger twisting inside her. "So you killed them? Because you thought they killed your father?"

"No, Amy," Harulan shook his head desperately. "I never meant for them to die. I wanted the truth, not revenge. Wouldn't you want the truth about your parents?"

Amy stared back at him and blinked away the beginnings of tears. "No," she told him. "Not like that."

"Your Majesty," the Doctor said. "You wanted the truth. Here it is. I don't think your father fell."

"There, Amy, you see?"

"No." The Doctor shook his head, sadly. "He didn't fall. I think… he jumped."

Amy shot a look of confusion at him. The king's mouth dropped open, but he couldn't speak. Phineas let out a long, desperate sob and slumped to the ground.

"No," Harulan hissed. "No. You are lying. My father would not take his own life."

The Doctor sighed again. "It's called Parmar's Disease. It's a rare genetic condition that causes mental instability in middle age. Paranoia, depression and sometimes suicidal thoughts. It's got a unique set of outward signs: long, narrow fingers; a slight stoop; premature grey hairs. And… very pale blue eyes."

Amy looked into Harulan's pale eyes, and then up at those of the silent image of his father. "How did you know?" she whispered.

"From the portraits," the Doctor said. "The symptoms were clear enough. And the dates. They all died young. Now, Your Majesty, please, turn the device off before anyone else gets hurt."

"No!" Harulan shouted. "No! You are lying, Doctor! My father was murdered and at the touch of a control I can make him appear to all the citizens of Peladon, and together we shall seek for justice!"

"A psychic attack on that scale would cause chaos," the Doctor told him. "You'll put thousands of lives in danger."

"Harulan," Amy said. "Please… stop."

"Amy…" Harulan could not meet her eyes. "I could have once. But that time as passed."

"Oh god," Amy whispered.

Harulan pulled away from them, hurrying up the steps to the throne. He paused beside one of the armrests and reached down to flip open a hidden panel. The Doctor drew the screwdriver and aimed it at the chair.

Then the door slammed open and Queen Rossum hurried through it.

"Doctor, stop! My son, please, listen to them!"

"Mother?"

The queen hurried across the throne room, all but ignoring the group standing at the bottom of the steps, and stood in front of her son. She gave him a sad smile, glanced down at the floor, and then took his hand, moving it away from the panel.

"It is true," she said. "The disease was the great secret of your family. They thought if the Parliament found out about it, they would use it as an excuse to dissolve the monarchy entirely."

"Doctor," Amy hissed, "that's…"

The Doctor raised a hand to quiet her. "I know."

"You were right," the queen went on. "Your father was not alone on… on the night he died. His oldest friend, and his most loyal servant were with him. And so was I. We tried to make him come down. We did all we could. And… we failed."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Harulan asked.

"I couldn't," Rossum dropped her head. "How could I tell my son that his father gave up the rule of his planet and the love of his family because he was weaker than a simple disease that turned his own hand against him? It hurt too much. It still does. You received treatment as a baby, you would never have suffered as he suffered. I thought you would never have to know."

"But…" Harulan looked down at the image of his father, who watched them both silently. "But you held this secret, why did you not see my father's ghost too?"

The queen gave a sad smile, and for the first time looked down at the spectre. "He was my husband. I loved him with all my heart. I love him still. I saw him, Harulan. I have seen him every day for ten years. In empty rooms; behind my eyes; at my side before I wake… in the face of my son."

Amy, standing at the foot of the steps, watched her, silent tears pouring down her face.

"He will be at my side as long as I live," Rossum went on. "As I would have been at his. Now please, my son, Your Majesty, end this. Switch off the machine."

She retreated down the steps. Harulan sagged into the throne. Slowly, he raised his hand and began to motion over the hidden controls.

As he did so, the Doctor watched as Rossum took her place beside the shade of the man she had married all those years ago. Then he looked at Amy, and for just a moment, Rory was standing beside her. The Doctor's eyes met his one last time as Rory reached out towards Amy as though to caress her cheek or catch her tears. And then he was gone.

The queen sighed and looked at the empty space beside her. "It is over, Doctor."

"Yes," the Doctor said. "It is. I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

"Perhaps you did enough," the queen replied. "Once again, Peladon thanks you."

She walked up the steps and stood beside her son, reaching down to squeeze his hand. He looked up at her, and then down at Amy.

"Goodbye, Lady Amelia," he said.

Amy tried to look him in the eye and found she couldn't. "Goodbye," she said.

She turned away and walked slowly towards the door. The Doctor started to follow her, but the king called after him.

"Doctor! Doctor, please. I never meant to do so much harm. Can you forgive me?"

The Doctor paused, cast a long glance at Amy's retreating back, and sighed. "It doesn't matter. Forgiveness isn't mine to give. Or to ask for."

He followed Amy through the door. In the corridors beyond, it felt as though the castle was coming back to life. Normality was resuming.

"Doctor," Amy said, uncertainly. "That machine, projector, thing. Why did it make me see the king too?"

"Because you're more sensitive to this sort of thing than most people. You caught the echoes of the effect, and so did everyone else in the castle who saw the ghost. But it didn't work on the aliens. Kashak and Alpha Centauri didn't see anything at all."

"But what about you? You're alien… sort of. And it made you see something, didn't it?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Who did you see?"

The Doctor sighed and gave her a smile that was both sad and hopeful. "Someone I used to know."