A/N: hi guys! so sorry for the break between updates!
i do intend to finish this fic however, i promise!
anyways, just a little Archaeological joke in this chapter that i thought i'd add but i'm noit sure anyone will get it :( anyway, less funny if i explain it but i'll will, Heinrich Schliemann wasnt a proprer Arcaheologist, more like a loud, slighlty obnoxious pirate, in a suit!
Chapter title taken from a line in George Orwell's Animal Farm "All animals are equal, but some are more equal than others" for those who don't know, the book was based on Soviet Rule.
Also, If you haven't watched the movie Inception then the "historical reference" below might not make sense, sorry!
Warning: This chapter contains swearing!
Chapter Ten: Some More Equal Than Others
The following is an extract from an online politically based blog written by a journalist named K.W Matherson in 2015. This extract, along with its further 4 pages formed the week 7 readings for 1st year Journalism students at the Lunar University during the years 5123 to 5126 C.E and can now be accessed via the university's library computers. The title of the piece is "Perception: the usurper of Authority" and parodies the Earth Film Inception to a degree.
The Architect: society, manipulates the situation with the perfect environment to stimulate anarchy.
The extractor: the people's perceptions of those in power, drawing out weaknesses through dangerous over confidence.
The point man: the economy, isn't it always the let biggest let down?
The tourist: the media, don't we tend to just come and go as we please?
The forger: the ego of a person is a delicate thing that creates delusions.
The mark: Authority.
Perception is everything, that is what we are told. And in the case of Authority that is almost always true.
The Time Vortex
It took River just over two hours to locate her gun. She found it lying atop a pile of clothes in the Tardis wardrobe as if it belonged there.
With a triumphant cry she dived down and picked it up, replacing it in the holster strapped to her waist before she turned and exited the room.
The Doctor was leaning against the console, waiting for her with his arms crossed and a smirk written on his face that she wanted to slap him silly for.
"Where to now Lady Dominika." He chuckled as he spun around to pilot his ship.
"Shall we pay a visit to your pal the Tsar" he asked, hanging onto the last word with evident distaste.
River shot him a glare as she pointed to her gun before she replied coolly, "oh let him wait, there's a Soviet meeting tonight remember"
The Doctor laughed, "Soviets, Lenin, Comrades, I love this country!"
River laughed softly as she gave him a gentle push away from the console,
"You could let me fly her!" He protested.
"Or we could go where we're supposed to" she retorted as she leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.
The Doctor blushed and reached up to brush his hand across the place where her lips had been moments before.
This, River reminded herself, was what she loved about her relationship with the Doctor. No matter how early in his time stream this would always exist between them, the endless banter that had become a shared mantra for them. In an ever shifting romance if there was one thing she could count on it was that string of phrases, echoing across every facet of the universe. The story of The Devil himself and Hell in High Heels. "I hate you" "no you don't" "hi honey I'm home"
"And what sort of time do you call this?" "You embarrass me" "Spoilers"
The Doctor had once told her she would never change. She just hoped he wouldn't either, her Doctor.
She had seen the rage that lurked behind those hazel eyes, boyish and charming at first glance, ancient and weary after that.
"He never interferes in the affairs of other people or planets, unless there's children crying" Her mother used to say.
Did Anastasia cry? knowing the fate that would befell her siblings and parents.
River cleared her throat, hastily turning away so that she could hold down the closest lever.
"So, the Petrograd Soviet?" She asked with a smile.
Public Residence, 3rd December 1905.
The small two storey house was only marginally occupied
by those Soviets who had managed to escape imprisonment. It was a sorry sight, maybe 30 or more people with none among them being prominent members, Trotsky and Lenin were both across the border, Alexandra and Parvus were currently sitting in a jail cell along with many others.
"The last meeting of the Petrograd Soviet" River whispered under breath as she and the Doctor climbed up the front stairs of the house, trying not to notice the undisguised wealth and grandeur. Clearly whoever owned this was a double agent like her, and while she didn't like to be a hypocrite, it was downright appalling in her opinion.
"The last meeting for now" The Doctor corrected, sliding the sonic screwdriver into the top pocket of his tweed blazer. On December 3rd the Petrograd soviet was dismissed until its re-establishment, the Octorber Manifesto was what saw to its demise.
"Who owns this?" River asked, glancing up at the structure with a raised eyebrow.
The Doctor shrugged, "no idea, guess we'll find out"
He slipped his arm around her waist discretely as they reaches the last step, pulling her closer towards him and casting a weary eye at the men lazing about under the tiny porch who smiled at his wife in a way that he deemed far too friendly.
"Mika!" He heard one of them cry and looked up immediately, letting out a groan of despair as he caught sight of a familiar face.
The owner of that voice was none other than Boris, the Soviet guard with intense dislike for him. The feeling was mutual.
"We thought you had died Mika!" Boris cried, swinging a bottle of vodka in his hand as he staggered to his feet. His red veined eyes landed on the Doctor and narrowed into slits, "we hoped you were dead" he muttered as he stumbled forwards.
"Thanks" The Doctor retorted sarcastically as River patted his shoulder in a sympathetic manner.
"Well we're both very much alive," River told the drunk man in a business like tone, "who owns this house? From what I can gather all of our leaders have either left the country or in prison."
Boris shrugged, taking a swig out of the bottle as if it were water. River raised an eyebrow, even she had to admit that that would kill. Vodka, straight.
She'd done that a couple of times and almost immediately regretted it. But it was a good relief for pain and when you'd just been chased halfway across a galaxy by a group of Cybermen and ended up with gashes all over your body? Well, les just say that Russian Vodka had its uses.
"Leaders, bah! Where are they all? Wether they are here it there they do not truly stand with their people. This man who owns the house, he is the same. He preaches to us about the joy of being free of riches yet he lives like a king. Mark my words Mika, even if the Tsar steps down we will only go from one dog ruling our Russia to another." And with that he fell down on the porch, arms bent at odd angles with the bottle still clasped in his hand, the liquor inside slowly dripping onto the floor, pooling around his unconscious form.
The Doctor and River acted as one, rushing towards the man and kneeling on the floor beside him. As the Doctor checked for a pulse River gently prised the bottle out of the man's grasp and righted it, covering the top with her hand as she scanned the floor for the lid.
The Doctor shot her an outraged look to which she replied, "no point wasting good liquor!"
He wisely chose to ignore her, "its ok he's still alive, but I'm guessing he's going to be angry when he wakes up and discovers that you've stolen his drink." The Doctor finished pointly as he let the man's wrist drop back to the ground.
With a toss of her curls she replied, "he bought it using the funds for weapons and as the authority on weapons I have every right to confiscate it"
"And that's your justification is it?" The Doctor said, though he couldn't help but smile just a little. "Oh you bad girl."
River smirked but said nothing as she stood up and held her free hand out to him. The Doctor gratefully accepted, letting her pull him to his feet a little too enthusiastically so that he almost fell ontop of her.
Her grip on his hand slackened so that he could pull her close to him once more, fingers running up and down her spine. River shivered, letting out a soft moan as the Doctor leaned towards her.
"Oh for gods sake get a bloody room!" An irritated voice cried from the doorway of the house.
The both jumped violently. "Every time!" The Doctor growled in frustration as he turned to find Professor Book once again peering in on them, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe.
"Well maybe Doctor, you should chose a more appropriate time to get cosy with your wife" Book replied smugly. "There are kids present you know!" He added.
"Yes, I'm staring at one" the Doctor muttered under breath.
"What was that?" Book asked in mild disapproval.
"John!" River cut across him hastily as she untangled herself from the Doctor's grasp and strode over to the other man.
"You were supposed to meet the Tsar" John said in a low voice as soon as she reached him.
"Change of plan" River replied smoothly, "who called this meeting? Everyone we know is somewhere else"
John beamed at her a little too pleased which made her rather suspicious. "Glad you asked Ms Song"
"Doctor Song" she corrected once again.
"Forgive me, old habits and all" John apologized before going on, "after the October Manifesto he turned up, notepad in one hand, he's a rather interesting figure I might say"
"John! Who is he?" River asked impatiently as The Doctor bounded over to them, "yes John, who is he?" He repeated, though he didn't have the faintest idea of what they were discussing.
"Another Time Traveller, just like us, though a little more, well, you'll see" John trailed off. The Doctor frowned gesturing to both of them, "no, no, no, you lot aren't time travellers, you're Archaeologists, time travellers" he gestured to himself, "point and laugh at Archaeologists"
River raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth to begin what would no doubt escalate into World War three. (before world war one or two had actually happened)
Book sensing trouble hastily shouted over the top of them, "no time for talking, not when history is being made, come along now" as he pulled them into the house.
They both glanced around the interior, one in interest, the other in disgust.
The entrance of the house was a spacious room which ended with a wide sweeping staircase to the floor above. On either side, curved doorways led into the parlour and dining room respectively. The carpet was a luxurious cream colour while heavy red velvet curtains framed the windows, every inch of mahogany furniture displaying ornamentation.
"That," The Doctor growled, pointing to a holographic map of St Petersburg, "is abuse of the privilege of a Time Traveller."
"Ah but he's not a time traveller is he" River replied with a smug grin, "at least, according to you sweetie"
"River this isn't funny, we're in a pre-industrialised country and he's showing off 51st century technology?" The Doctor growled.
"This man, your friend, I'd like a word with him" He said through gritted teeth as he spun around to face Book.
"I never said he was my friend"
"Doctor, these people still believe in mysticism, for them its the work of another shaman." River explained quietly, "besides how do you think they'd react if they saw the inside of the TARDIS?" She was about to go on when an angry cry from behind them interrupted her,
"Bloody Fuckers, all of ya! Do you know one of them tried to steal my red figure vase? Fuckwits!"
River froze where she was as John sighed and The Doctor raised an eyebrow.
"God no!" She choked.
"Oh yes" John replied grimly, and she finally understood why he had been so mysterious before. "The Heinrich Schliemann of our age"
The Doctor muttered something under his breath about rubbish Archaeologist jokes as River turned to face the figure standing on the stairs.
The man wore a charcoal grey suit, green and red handkerchief peeking out of the breast pocket, his black hair slicked back and a ridiculous moustache that had made her cringe the first time she'd met him.
He couldn't be here, he was dead, his access card left in the archive of a library that wouldn't be built for another 3000 or so years.
"Garth?" Was all she could manage to say.
The man grinned down at her with sickening approval, "ah already heard if me ay? C.D Garth at your service."
She'd never believed that anyone could have an ego as large as the Doctor's, until she met her Revolution's lecturer, Professor C.D Garth.
DUN DUN DUN!
(C.D Garth was the man who River stole the access card from at the start of the story by the way!)
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