10 a.m.
Main Hall
McCrimmon Estate
"He said that?" Rose asked.
"Procreating apes, yeah," James said, emphatically. "That and more."
"You called me a stupid ape once, remember?" Rose gathered a wisp of streamers from the flagstone floor and stuffed it into the trash bag they carried between them.
James scooped up a gaggle of balloons. "That was different. I was different."
"Maybe he's different?" she asked, but she sounded doubtful.
"If he's that different, we've got bigger problems than a few bouts of memory-linked narcolepsy," James said. "You mentioned earlier he said there was something in his head. What if there really is something in there? Beyond the memory. What if whatever's shielded in there is hiding something else?"
"And it's… changing him?" Rose asked.
"Contamination," James said. He shuddered.
"What will that do to you?" she asked.
James rubbed his neck. "Same, I suppose," he said. "Not a pleasant thought, but it seems likely. There's a clear connection."
A pinch of distress creased Rose's brow. "Then what do we do? We can't just… let it."
"No, we can't," he said. "Rose." He smoothed a hand over her hair. "There's a trick I've learned."
"But… won't he know it?" Rose asked.
"No, I learned it here, when I learned how to dream," he said. "While he's reading your thoughts, there's a way for you to enter his. A door, once opened, can be stepped through in either direction."
"So I'd go into his thoughts…"
"It's dangerous," he said. He closed his eyes a moment. "Stupendously dangerous. But if anyone can do it, it's you. You know him. And he trusts you."
Rose nodded. "I know," she said. She scraped up another scrap of wrapping paper and tossed it into the bag.
"If he wanted, he could tear through the layers of my mind to get at that memory," James said. "Shred it like tissue paper."
Her eyes flashed. "No, but he wouldn't–"
"–I know," James said. "But he could. He's scared and emotional and you know what he's like when he gets that way."
Rose considered a moment, then said, "Could you enter my mind instead?"
"Been a long time since I tried something like that. Haven't done it since the meta-crisis," James said. "If I got it wrong–"
"You'd be careful," Rose said. "I'd feel much better if it was you in my brain."
"Oh, yes, me too, but… we're also trying to help the Doctor. The best way to do that is…"
They came to the end of the corridor. Outside, a brisk wind was kicking up. Through the window, James could just make out the figures of the Doctor, River, Mr. Price, and Jake. The Doctor gestured wildly, his mad hair whipping about his head, as the others maneuvered the substrate generator through the open doors of the TARDIS.
James drew a deep breath. "Rose, there's something else I should tell you." Something in his tone stopped her short, and she drew up to stare into his eyes. "I should've told you. Long ago, I–"
But he was cut off by a guttural rumble of thunder that shook the house to its foundations.
XXX
Pete Tyler's long legs carried him across the yard to the hangar, where Prescott Lamb placed the TARDIS the day before. A chill wind marched up the hillside, wimpling the long, pale grasses that grew there. Pete did not like that wind. Slate-gray haze blurred the horizon to the east, and licks of lightning writhed in the clouds, foretelling the fierceness of the storm.
And that was not supposed to happen.
As Pete strode to the hangar, he pressed the com switch on his wristwatch and tuned the open channel for the Tyler airship.
"Jacks," he said. "You read me?"
A young boy's voice answered. "Hi, Dad," Tony said. "Mum's below with Tab and Addie. Want I should fetch her?"
Even with the ominous storm clouds looming, Pete couldn't stifle his smile at hearing the maturity in his son's voice. He was growing up so fast and so well. "Nah, it's fine. Just wanted to check in with my crew."
"Clear sailing here, Dad," Tony said. "I started working on the clockwork that James gave me, but I need help with the internal gears."
"Sure thing, Tone. Soon as we're all home," Pete came to the gate of the hangar grounds. He could see the Doctor and Jake standing outside the TARDIS, deep in conversation. "Hey kiddo, gotta go, but pass a message along to Pilot Morales, all right?"
"Yep, go ahead," Tony said.
"Tell Ms. Morales to take you home by the inland route. Stay clear of the coast til you're well south. All the way to Blackpool, eh?"
"'kay, Dad."
"All right, Tiger. See you soon."
The connection ended. Pete keyed the security code for the gate. "Right," Pete said. "Now to work."
XXX
"I still feel like we're sneaking around," Rory said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"We're just having a look," Amy told him. "Like you said, it's a beautiful house. Shame not to get a peek."
Rory followed behind her, wary as a skulking dog, while she weaved from one room to the next with the whimsy of a child.
"Amy," he said. "Have you noticed — that is, the Doctor — he's not been–"
"Oh, wow," he heard her gush. "Rory, come have a look."
Amy had meandered from the main corridor into a sort of gallery where, mounted on every wall were dozens of ornately framed digital vidpanels — each the size of a plasma-screen TV — all of them displaying slideshows and vid-clips of James and Rose at various locations around the world.
Rose and James in Paris. Rose and James in India. Rose and James in Taiwan. At Ayer's Rock. The Grand Canyon. Vancouver. Barcelona. Machu Pichu. Hawaii. Tibet.
"Look!" Amy shouted, pointing. "It's the–"
"–Moon?" Rory finished. "They've been to the moon?"
"This world's managed space tourism," Amy said.
"Nice."
"Way nice."
They stared up at the photo frames, mesmerized by the endless scroll of memories flowing across the screens. Many of the pictures showed the pair of them out of focus or partly out of frame, but in every one of them, Rory saw undeniable happiness.
Amy came to rest in front of one frame with several images of Rose in a bright red sari with bangles of gold at her wrists and in her ears. A tropical beach spilled over the background, with sailboats stitching across the brilliant azure ocean. James appeared in some of the images — clearly self-portraits taken with the camera held at arm's length. But the way the sunlight filtered through the lens, turning everything to crisp crimson and gold, it looked to Rory like the picture of peace itself.
"They're so — eee," Amy said, giving herself an all-body shake. "I'm going into sugar shock. I mean, really, it's hard to believe he was ever the Doctor."
Rory breathed a heavy sigh. "I envy them," he said.
Amy gaped at him. "Do you?"
"Look at them," he said. "Married nine years, and they're still — I dunno — basking."
Amy sneered, not unkindly. "Sounds like a condition of the skin. Besides, don't you think it's a bit much?"
"Do you?"
"Yes," she said. Rory heard the implied 'Duh' in her voice.
"It's what I want," he told her.
"This? All moony eyes and feeding each other cake?"
"We did that," Rory said.
"On our wedding night."
"That's my point, Amy. It's like their wedding night every day. They're in love. They're good at it. I want that for us."
Amy folded her arms. "I'm not all huggy-wuggy, Rory. You knew that–"
"–Neither was he," Rory cut in, gesturing at the vidpanel. "But he changed 'cause of her. Now look at them. It's like — It's like he's finally home."
"And you want that?"
"You don't?"
Amy shook her head. "I want this," she said, waving a hand between them. "You and me. Time and space, all the excitement, all the running!"
"But we don't have this," Rory said. "We barely have anything." He started to leave but froze as thunder ruptured the sky over the house.
Behind them, a three-toned chime sounded and suddenly the vidpanels filled with torrents of spiky white lettering. In the right-hand corner of the rightmost screen, a burgundy signal light began to pulse.
"Alien," Amy decided.
"Definitely," Rory agreed. "Doctor?"
Amy nodded, eyes wide. "Definitely."
XXX
10:24 a.m.
The TARDIS
"No, not that one — it's the — be careful, that's the — no, you're gonna–!"
The generator slid under the main console with a metallic thunk, and a spray of sparks geysered out of the TARDIS control grid. The Doctor put both hands on his head and spun a brisk circle to find River smirking at him from the other side of the open TARDIS door.
"I told you before: There's no traction on plasteel," River said.
"Plasteel is cool," he said.
River came around the door and straightened his bowtie. "When are you meeting Rose?"
He arched a brow. She arched hers right back. "Soon as the generator's linked into the TARDIS." He glanced in at Jake and Mr. Price, who were unwinding unwieldy lengths of cable between them in the school of Abbott and Costello. "Heavens, it could be days."
Lightning flashed, followed by an earsplitting crash of thunder. Across the yard, the Doctor saw Pete flinch as a second later a punishing torrent of rain pelted down. He scrambled across the remaining distance, and they all rushed into the TARDIS.
"That storm's on us with a vengeance," Pete gasped.
"You may be more right than you think," the Doctor said under his breath. "But! We'll get the TARDIS up and running, and then we'll be up and running, and with any luck, the storm will follow us and Pete's World will once again be open for regular business."
"Sooner the better," Pete said, swabbing rain from face with a handkerchief.
"Right," the Doctor said. "Understood."
River detected a note of hurt in the Doctor's voice, and it surprised her. She saw history between them, more stories the Doctor never spoke of. She squeezed his shoulder and said, "I'll help these boys out. You go find Rose. Sooner the better, right?"
Thunder rumbled. The Doctor plucked an umbrella from the stand beside the TARDIS door and hefted it to his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something, but then just stepped out into the rain.