Chapter 14 - Static Interference
Masha paused, looked at the tablet and then up at Koschei. It occurred to her that he really was quite brilliant and that he could probably put back in some of the functions that it had lost over time. She was hesitant to ask, but he was looking at her with a warmth and kindness that gave her the courage to go ahead.
"Can you make it do the number-scan-lock thing that I used to have set up?" she asked him. "I never figured out how to bring it back and if it would do that again, that would be amazing!" The last part came out in a rush as she tried to explain.
"Well, I have done a few upgrades to it, but I'm not sure what you're asking about?" he enquired with a bird-like tilt of the head.
Masha pulled off one of her fingerless gloves and displayed her hand to him. The number "37" was written on her palm. She had cut it there herself, with a belt knife, and blackened it with soot, so long ago that it was faded and fuzzy, but still quite legible.
"I used to have it fixed so that when I turned it on, it would scan my number before it would activate. I want that back. I don't want anyone looking at it but me, or at least someone that I've given approval to," she told him, feeling apprehensive. Was she asking too much? There was a breathless moment where she wondered if she had overstepped his hospitality, but he just nodded and went to the wall of parts again, not seeming to have noticed her concern.
"I saw that it had a slot for a scan input," he murmured. "But since the scanner wasn't there, I figured you never bought that upgrade," he told her and then frowned. "When were you on Gallifrey, by the way? I don't think that they ever sold these notebooks to allied worlds, since they were specifically designed for time travellers."
"I never went to Gallifrey," she started and then stopped as suddenly fuzzy memories popped up in her head. "Well, no, maybe that once? But… it was like it was all… there was this big war and… and afterwards I was never really sure if I was there or not, or if it was Gallifrey or not, it was kind of… weird. I mean, it was weird even for me. All sort of tangled up and shredded." She paused, rubbing the number in her palm. "No, the tablet was… part of the equipment that I was originally fitted out with. A long time ago."
"It would have to have been, these were made before the Time War." He paused and looked down at his hands. "It sounds like you experienced a timeline collapse. We, the Time Lords and the Daleks, were going back in time again and again in order to get advantages over each other. It was awful. Every time one side or the other would change history, the present would dissolve and change, like it had always been that way."
"For our allies it was easier. After a few minutes, they would forget the other timeline had ever existed. For us though..." he trailed off and turned away, plucking a tiny gem shaped object from the shelf and going back to the workbench. "We lived the same events or variations on them over and over again, remembering all our deaths," he breathed out his pain palpable in the still air of the workshop. He slotted the gem into the notebook, his hands so deft and clever, as though they had no association with his anguished eyes.
"That should work now." He ran a quick diagnostic, then scanned her palm for her to demonstrate the function, and nodded in satisfaction.
Masha hugged him, feeling a sudden kinship with the shy engineer and his wellsprings of grief
"I did variations," she told him. "For a long time I did a lot of variations. I could never figure that out. But eventually that quit and I went to different places. I'm sorry, I know the variations sucked."
He nodded and hugged her back.
"Yes, they did ... suck," he told her and then frowned slightly. "Why 37?" he asked. "What does it mean?" His question made her stop and study her palm thoughtfully, trying to find a way to explain things that had seemed as simple as breathing to her.
"It was the highest number I had discovered at the time," she mused. "The highest I had written."
"You could only count to 37?" he asked, puzzled, and started tidying up the workbench, cleaning up the scraps of stuff.
"No formal education?" Jake asked with a sympathetic look. and she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly.
"No, it's not… not like that." She sat down, a wash of shame rolling through her. "Look, I'm basically a… a construct. I mean, you know that, I am sure that Susan showed you the scans," she told them, feeling again the sense of being somehow less than everyone else, a thing, a made thing, not real at all. "So yes, I have a full education, at some point a local copy of the Internet got downloaded into my head." She forced a smile, though she thought perhaps the joke fell rather flat, and then fell silent, trying to figure out how to explain.
"I'll tell you one thing, Masha, don't ever let Susan hear you call yourself a construct," Koschei warned her with a tiny smile. "My wife is a sweet woman, but she'll go utterly spare if you use terms like that. You're a person, Masha, with thoughts, feelings, and rights." He tapped the notebook. "That's a construct." He tapped her. "You're Masha."
"Well, thank you. Duly noted." She wasn't convinced, but also wasn't going to pursue the topic, it was far too painful for her. "But the number thing, it's like a… I dunno, like a couple of verses that I made up. No, that doesn't explain…" She sighed. "I have dreams. I didn't used to have them as badly but they've gotten worse lately, a lot worse. Which doesn't matter, they don't really bother me, well, I mean they do, but it's nothing I can't handle. What bothers me is that when I wake up, I… can't get back."
"Get back where?" Koschei asked gently, watching her with warmth and concern, but without the screaming alarm other people had displayed when she had tried to explain. Jake sat backwards on one of the folding chairs, propping his chin on the back of the chair, watching her as well, but also not freaking out, which was pretty novel for her.
"Get back to… wherever I went to sleep. I figured out a verse to help, it goes like this," she counted on her fingers, "Every day I write in my journal. Every day I remember what I wrote in my journal. Every day I read what I have written in my journal. Every day I look at my hand to see the number that I have written there. If there is no number, I remember the highest number that I have written, and claim the next number for myself."
She repeated it slowly, for their benefit, counting the points off on her fingers. "Every day I write in my journal, because writing in my journal will allow me to find my way back to wherever I went to sleep. Every day I remember what I wrote in my journal, because I need to be sure about what happened to me. Every day I read when I have read in my journal, because sometimes my memory is wrong and I have to reread to fix that. Every day I look at my hand to see the number I have written there, because I need to check, and be sure it is still there. If there is no number, I remember the next highest number I have written, and claim the next number for myself, because I have to be able to find my journal entry, and I know my journal entry because I have my number."
"Masha, it would be a different journal entry every day, right? So, wouldn't it be numbered differently?" Jake asked and Koschei shook his head.
"You're missing the point, Jake. She's not looking for a page number, she's finding her identity, every day, she wakes up not knowing who she is or where she is. The number is her mnemonic for her own personal identity." He looked down and then up at her, eyes filled with a painful understanding. "Every day I say to myself, "It's all over, I'm Koschei, Susan is here, everything is fine, now," and one day I really hope that I won't have to tell myself that anymore," he sighed and looked as though he rather doubted that day would ever come. She understood the feeling.
"I've been afraid that if the tablet quits working, I won't be able to find my way back, and I would just be…. I dunno, lost I guess."
"I have Susan, I wake up from a really bad nightmare and she tells me it's okay," he sighed. "Grown man and I use my wife as a talisman to drive away the monster." He shook his head and gave a soft laugh. "Probably rather pathetic of me."
"Susan doesn't think so," Jake told him, grabbing his shoulder and giving him a little shake. "From the things she's said, you all went through hell in the War and, from my own little slice of the Infernal Plane, I can tell you that nightmares are par for the course, Shay." Jake nodded at Masha. "So, neither one of you needs to feel bad for that. It's totally normal."
"And I saw the way that Susan was looking at you on the TARDIS," Masha pointed out. "I don't think she cares about anything, but you being okay. Trust me, I can tell," she beamed. "And I think that is the first time anyone has ever called me 'normal'," she looked at Jake in some surprise.
"For this place, Masha, you are normal, fit right in, even," Jake informed her and his tone was strangely solemn as he said it.
"That'd be nice," she said, "I've never fit into anywhere before."
"Welcome to the Nuthatch," Koschei teased. "We're all a bit off here, but mostly harmless," he added.
"Speak for yourself, old man!" Jake snarked.
"You're not harmless?" Masha asked, curious about him now and he raised an eyebrow at her in surprise.
"No, I'm not. Have you heard about the Cybermen roaming the Earth?" he asked and she felt a jolt of remembered fear and anger.
"No. Not the Earth. I don't believe I have ever been to Earth. I met the Cybermen on Cyprus Four." Her eyes looked haunted. "I do have some familiarity with what they are capable of."
"The reason you haven't heard of them being on Earth, is because Mickey and I took them out. The two of us, against hundreds of them, with nothing but a van, a cell phone and a couple of rifles, and we're still alive and they're all dead. So, am I harmless? Hell, no, I'm the thing that comes and stops the monsters and makes them stay stopped." He told her this with a flat, calm voice, his eyes, usually so bright and merry, gone hard as sapphires. He was, in that moment, a deadly force, carefully controlled, but capable of doing whatever it took to finish things. His pixie smile and pretty face hid the reality really well, but she could see now, what lay behind them.
"I'm glad you were able to save Earth," she nodded at him. "I couldn't save Cyprus Four, I tried, there were just too many. But the fleet never moved on to Cyprus Five. I understand, for whatever that is worth."
He nodded and Koschei looked between them with a small smile.
"You two have a lot in common, really. But, I should get back to work, I have to finish fixing this doll before Arista wakes up and realizes that it's gone," he murmured and lifted the doll in his hands. "The joint came loose and the circuits shorted, that's all," he told her. "An easy fix." He used his screwdriver on it for a moment and then the doll opened it's eyes and blinked and smiled at him.
"Thank you, Koschei," the doll told him.
"Now, let's get you back to Arista, before she wakes up, all right?" he murmured, turning the doll around in his hands to make sure she was perfect.
"I will always be there for her," the doll told him and he nodded at the two of them and then ducked out of the workshop, leaving Jake staring after him.
"Is it me, or was that just both weird and slightly creepy?" he asked Masha.
"Creepy," she said. "If that doll was as big as I am, I don't think there would be an ounce of difference between us. But, he did fix the tablet, and that is the main thing." She kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be able to find my way back now."
Jake frowned. "Masha, if you can't see just how vast the difference is between you and a doll, then you really need a better set of friends." He was looking at her with an unhappy expression. She stared at him, her eyes searching his face to see if he was being serious or not.
"I never had a chance to have any friends," she said and that hurt suddenly. Seeing the warmth of other people's friendships here, she was finding herself craving that closeness.
"Well, you do now. Best mates, you and me!" he told her with a pixie smile peeking through the seriousness and Masha felt like a child that had just been given an enormous Christmas present.
"Really?" she asked, him, not sure if she had heard him correctly.
"Really and truly," he assured her and she threw her arms around him. She had a home and she had a friend, this was the happiest she'd ever been.
Rose trudged into the nursery and picked up Jamie, cradling him against her shoulder. She'd gone to sleep only to have the images from the bombing show up in her dreams. There had been an overturned pram in one picture, mute evidence of a life that had ended before it had really begun and she'd woken in a panic, suddenly scared for her children.
"Mummy?" Jenny peered up at her sleepily and she tucked the baby back into his crib and went to cuddle her daughter.
"Hey Jenny," she murmured, kissing her head, the angel soft hair tickling her face.
"Wha's wrong?" the little girl asked, picking up her mother's distress through the telempathic field.
"I just love you both so very much," she murmured.
"Oh, that's okay. I thought Uncle Shay had told on me," she murmured, still half asleep.
Rose took a deep breath and forced herself not to glare at her child.
"Go back to sleep," she soothed and tucked her back in under the covers, making sure that Hippo was under her arm, ready to ease any night terrors for her.
Then, she went looking for Koschei. Whatever her eldest had been up to, she'd better go find out what it was. After all, her omniscience wasn't easy to maintain around that child.
Masha's dreams remained the same, but the details varied.
Tonight it was the Ixthar, with their long, segmented bodies, lying in curlicues, among the dried and brittle bones of their victims. Perhaps it was the movement of the Ixthar that caused the bones to rattle, to whirl together and reassemble and ...
... and lose clarity, tilting sideways. A thick, fuzzy, horizontal white line crossed her vision from top to bottom. The bones dissolved and the Ixthar dissolved and she could see nothing but snow. No, not snow. Static? It was static, as if she was watching a television picture.
Then the static shattered, briefly, very briefly, and she was looking at ... herself, behind a pane of glass: a window or a mirror. Or ice? Her reflection had her mouth open, as if shouting, and slammed both fists against the barrier as the static closed back in...
...and she fell right out of bed, thrashing, disoriented. Ice ... static ... a mirror ...what?
When she eventually spotted her number and remembered her journal, she sat down and wrote frantically. But when she read what she had written, even the writing seemed to have taken a turn for the worse:
)(*&(^^$%u%^1#*t][][i}{_p()1^*%3%^)c)(*_o*%#
She had a moment of real panic but, no, no, it was just the one line today, the rest of the entry was fine. Still, its presence concerned her. Koschei had just finished repairing this tablet! Everything else was functioning perfectly - why was it still giving these crazy lines?
In the end, she couldn't take the risk. She had to have the notepad. She sighed, picked it up, put it in her pack, and headed out for his workshop. To make it less painful on him, she stopped by the pastry shop and bought a box of croissants, cinnamon toast, and other goodies.
Koschei looked up and smiled as Masha came in. He was glad that it wasn't Rose returning. That conversation had gone less than well. He suspected that Jenny was in for another scolding there.
"Morning, Masha, nightmares beaten back?" he asked, hoping that the slightly green sickly tone of her skin was from the slug symbiote and not an indicator that she wasn't getting enough rest.
She waved her hand. "Vanquished as always," and slid a box from the local pastry shop over to him. "Here, I brought you croissants and things to make up for coming out so early. I wasn't sure what you might like."
"I love croissants," he admitted. "Susan is always teasing me about it," he chuckled, knowing that his face went soft when he talked about her and not really caring. He could feel the warm glow of her in his mind and hearts and he smiled, just happy to have her there.
"Good, more of these cinnamon thingies for me," Masha said. They were very small, so she could pop a whole one in her mouth, and proceeded to do so. "The tablet is still being weird," she told him. "You just fixed it, and it's still doing it."
"That's odd," he murmured and took the tablet from her with a small frown. He cocked his head at the screen. "That's User Error, Masha, not a Software Failure," he explained gently.
"You mean an I-D-ten-T error? No it's not, I know how to type, and the rest of the entry is perfect."
He chuckled at her use of that code and smiled.
"No, look, see?" He typed in "The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog," and every letter was clear. "As you said, the rest of the entry was perfect, this wasn't a glitch..." he frowned at it. "It was something else. Not quite sure what though," he admitted and she looked away, face going still and eyes widening in fear.
"Is it… is it my programming that is breaking down then?" she asked him and he looked up at her sharply.
"Programming? You're not a computer, Masha," he assured her. "You're a person, you might have had a weird moment of aphasia or something, but that happens," he told her, willing her to believe him.
"But that is how I started out, as a computer, basically. I have always figured that that stuff didn't just go away. All the stuff that was put in my head, I mean. I can still read, and do math, and things like that, so what happens if it breaks down somehow?"
"Masha, you're fine. You're not a computer. You're a sentient life form, which, as my wife keeps informing me, means that you are subject to evolution and change," he sighed. "That knowledge might have been initially fed into you, but it's integrated by now, it's part of who you are. But you're learning a lot and things are going to change for you."
"Apparently including language skills," she sighed and took the notepad back. "As long as it isn't broken, I guess…"
"You're on a whole different world, experiencing things you've never experienced before, a little readjustment is normal," he assured her and she chewed her lip nervously.
"Yes, that's probably it," she said, although she hardly sounded convinced. "Thank you Koschei."
"No, problem," he answered, though he stared at the wall for a long time after, puzzling over the characters and feeling like he was missing something important.