Epilogue: Nobody Left

Somewhere off the coast of the Mediterranean Sea, there is a conversation taking place between two people. It is taking place over the remains of a wrecked, ruined and utterly desolated library, although fortunately it's only the actual library that's been burnt, not the rest of the building.

"A tragedy," says one of these two people – not in English, but it's our privilege as outside observers to be able to understand it in such – "a terrible, terrible tragedy."

"Yes," agrees the other. There is a fair amount of sad head-shaking involved here, of course. "It's hardly surprising, though, with all the lynch mobs –"

The first person nods. There are a lot of lynch mobs at the moment. A lot of things tend to get torn apart and destroyed, although it's usually people, not libraries. It's a politics thing. "Somebody's going to need to clean this up," they remark.

"And re-copy all the books –"

"– again..."

This isn't the first time the library has been destroyed and rebuilt, and by no means will it be the last.

"Terrible," says the first person again, after another moment of silence. "Just terrible... do we know how it started?"

"Nobody knows," says the second person. "Apparently the fire was so fierce by the time anybody got in, it was too late to do anything about it."

"And whoever did it was gone?" asks the first.

"Apparently," replies the second. "I wonder if there was anybody inside when it happened?"

"If they were, they'd be dead by now," says the first person, waving a dismissive sort of hand through the air. "No-one could have survived a fire like that."

"Hm. I suppose." They sigh. "We should go, before somebody forces us to help with the clean-up."

The two people move away from the library, never to be remembered by history. And as they leave, we hear this final snippet of a conversation:

- "How many men do you suppose it will take to clear all of this away?"

- "At least forty-five, I'd wager."

And then, precisely three-quarters of a minute later (and not any longer) there is a shudder which doesn't exactly shake anything that could be considered physical, exactly. It's reality itself that shifts. Not a single person notices.

And in a place far removed from any concept of reality that we could ever dream of, there is a being that is very much alive and kicking, and he is laughing like a madman, and his laughter sounds like glass breaking over and over, into shards and fractal shards and beyond and beyond and beyond.

And somewhere else, there is a blue box that is hanging in space just west of the Horsehead Nebula, and inside that box, there is a Time Lord who is sitting in the library, sipping at a cup of freshly-made tea.

And just for a moment, without really knowing why, this Time Lord pauses, midway to taking another sip of tea.

And inexplicably –

he shivers.

end

notes: that's all, folks