Author's Notes:
Wherever you are, I hope you are safe and well during this awful pandemic. If you are not well, I hope you are on the mend and that this chapter takes your mind off of things.
Chapter 8
Sunday, 31 January 2016, Earth, Hilton Garden Inn, Des Moines, Iowa
The Doctor felt solid ground underneath his boots just before his legs crumbled. He felt the shock and actually saw stars when his knees connected solidly with the brick pavement. His stomach rolled with sudden nausea. It took a few moments for the world to stop spinning, and a few moments more to collect his composure.
"Quick and dirty time travel," he croaked hoarsely. He hadn't travelled by vortex manipulator for hundreds of years for a reason. Sadly, things changed with age. At two thousand years (and then some), this mode of time travel was rougher on his system than in his younger days. Hopefully he would get used to it; this was only the first of possibly many trips.
Thankfully he had selected an unoccupied courtyard as his destination, so no one witnessed his embarrassing state. When he felt he could, he stood shakily with the help of a conveniently placed bench. His knees smarted, especially the left one. Looking down, he saw that the trousers were torn at the left knee and cursed. My favorites. He felt the unmistakable trickle of blood down his leg and into his sock.
He knew from his exploration of the time audit that Shaw's headquarters for the caucuses were on the first floor of the hotel. He found the main entrance and got directions at the reception desk. He hadn't walked far when he spotted the sign by the door and heard the busy hum of Team Shaw coming from within the room.
Shaw's HQ was in a small conference room. Twenty or so volunteers sat at cramped tables. Most of them where on phones, speaking animatedly to potential Iowan supporters. Stacks of paper littered the tables along with half-eaten doughnuts, pizza boxes and discarded foam coffee cups. Nobody noticed the Doctor's arrival.
No security here, the Doctor mused. Anyone could walk in. They're lucky it's only me.
In addition to his goal of repairing the timeline, the Doctor was on the lookout for what might have caused the aberration. While the time audit didn't reveal a specific catalyst that started the chain reaction, it didn't eliminate the possibility of outside intervention.
"Hi there! Are you new?"
The Doctor was pulled from his rumination and searched around for the speaker. It took him a few moments to identify the source as a young, short statured neatly dressed woman who had approached from behind.
Her hands were full. She set down a cup full of ball point pens and a carton of political pins to shake his hand.
"I'm Elizabeth. Are you Alan Bean? We've been expecting you."
Hmm, how to respond? The Doctor considered his original cover story and decided to stick with it, rather than avoid the risk of assuming Bean's identity when he had no idea if that would serve his purpose.
"No, actually, I'm not. My name is Doctor John Smith. Pleased to meet you, Elizabeth."
The young volunteer smiled. "You're English! Well, welcome, Dr. Smith. Are you here to join the phone bank?"
"That's Scottish, actually, and I am not here for phone work. I'm a political analyst. I've got some important and time sensitive information for Senator Shaw. Is he about?"
"No, he's out meeting the public." Elizabeth unfastened her mobile from a belt clip and studied something on the screen. "It's just past ten now, so he just wrapped up the town hall and is heading to the home of a precinct captain to meet with some potential voters." She moved toward a coat rack placed conveniently by the door.
"If you'd like, we can meet him there. The information is really urgent, huh?"
"Oh yes, very."
The Doctor learned a lot about Elizabeth on the fifteen-minute drive to their destination. From the child car seat in the back, worrisome assortment of toys and the distinct smell of toddler, he ascertained that she had a small child. Upon asking about it he learned that Elizabeth was a single parent of a three-year-old girl named Alexis, who was currently staying with her grandparents while Elizabeth was at the caucuses. Her home was in Maryland.
She had joined Shaw's campaign a year earlier when he first announced his intent to run for president. While she played a senior role as a volunteer organizer for the campaign and was on a first name basis with him, the Doctor surmised that she did not have enough leverage to help the Doctor persuade Shaw to end his run for president.
The Doctor kept the questions coming so that Elizabeth didn't have a chance to ask any of her own.
They parked in front of a modest split-level ranch with a covered front porch. The front yard was covered by snow, but the walk up to the front door was shoveled and well salted. Several cars filled the driveway and were parked along the side of the road.
When the Doctor swung his legs over to get out of the car he gasped sharply and cursed under his breath as his left knee reminded him that it had recently sustained an injury and he was no longer a young time lord.
"Hey, are you okay?" Elizabeth was around to his side of the car in an instant. She saw the problem immediately. It would be hard to miss – his knee had swollen enough that the torn fabric of his trousers was stretched tight. The angry flesh showed through the tear, purple and clotted with blood.
"Sheesh – that looks bad! What happened?"
"It's nothing," the Doctor said, though his jaw was still clenched from the pain. "I tripped on my way into the hotel. It must've stiffened up from sitting. It will limber up once I'm on my feet again."
"Are you sure?" Elizabeth looked on as he rose stiffly using the grab handle on the passenger side ceiling. She clasped his other arm as he straightened up and tentatively put weight on the leg. The Doctor gave her a tight smile.
"I'm fine, really. And I'm a fast healer. Please don't worry." She smiled, but her eyes still looked concerned.
"Well, you're the doctor, I guess. But you said you're a political analyst, so not a medical doctor, right?" The Doctor didn't answer.
"Let's take it slow and see how you feel. If it's too bad, I can drive you to the ER, no problem."
Yes, problem, the Doctor thought. Hopefully his knee would cooperate sufficiently that she wouldn't insist on getting him medical attention. If he ended up at a hospital, his cover would be blown with the initial vitals check.
By the time they reached the door the Doctor found he could walk almost normally, though the pain was significant.
A printed sign on the door advised them to "C'mon in!" in a folksy font. They did as they were told. They hung their coats in the coat closet and followed the buzz of conversation into a crowded living room. Elizabeth deposited the Doctor in an empty chair and disappeared into another room. Apparently, she had been in this house before.
The attendees were plain working people; most men wore flannel work shirts and blue jeans or corduroys. A few of the women were dressed up in their Sunday best, but most were dressed casually.
The Doctor noted two exceptions, one who was likely Shaw's chief advisor or campaign manager, and another that was undoubtedly a bodyguard. The latter looked way too fit and alert to be a politician and sat in a chair by the door. While he appeared to be reading something on his phone, the Doctor had no doubt he was tuned into what was going on in the room and would react to a threat at a moment's notice.
The topic currently under discussion was health care. The Doctor scanned the room, letting the conversation wash over him but not paying much attention to what was said. The twenty or so potential Shaw supporters were largely older, a mix of men and women, and largely Caucasian.
Shaw sat in the middle of the sofa, surrounded by the sturdy Iowans. The Doctor identified him by his freshly pressed suit and neat tie that he probably didn't select on his own.
Shaw was currently listening intently to a woman on his left bang on about the cost of her prescriptions and fear about her husband's upcoming hip replacement. Heads bobbed in commiseration around the room. Apparently, the cost of healthcare was a key concern to most.
Just as Shaw started to answer the Doctor felt something very cold press against his angry knee. He jumped and looked up to see Elizabeth and another woman standing beside him.
"Here, this might help." Elizabeth guided the Doctor's hand to hold the ice against his knee. When she seemed confident that he would keep it there, she nodded toward the other woman. "Rachel here is a nurse. This is her house, by the way."
Rachel offered a glass of water and set two white tablets on the table next to the chair, then set about pulling up a stool so the Doctor could elevate his leg. He now had the attention of most of the attendees. A chubby middle-aged man seemed particularly miffed about the distraction.
"Let's leave that on your knee for 20 minutes. And take the aspirin. It will help with the swelling."
"Thanks," the Doctor smiled toward the well-meaning nurse. "I need to pass on the aspirin, though. I've got an allergy." He hoped that such an allergy was not an unheard-of thing in these parts. Rachel didn't bat an eye and happily didn't continue to press when she offered other pain relievers and he declined. She disappeared back into the kitchen when he accepted her offer of coffee and returned shortly with a steaming cup.
By the time the Doctor could return his attention to Shaw, the senator had finished his answer and the conversation had moved on. The chubby man who had watched the Doctor being mothered over asked Shaw pointed questions about his voting history on bills related to the environment. From his comments about environmental protections, pesticide bans and agricultural economics, the Doctor ascertained that this man was a farmer.
While Shaw responded fairly well, the Doctor could see right away why he wasn't doing well in the polls and would not be successful in his candidacy. The man had no personality whatsoever. He stumbled through his answer, repeating himself more than once. While he seemed sincere, he didn't come across as someone who knew what he was talking about, and from the body language in the room the Doctor suspected he had won no new supporters in this house today.
Things wrapped up shortly thereafter. The Doctor remained seated as the crowd queued up to shake hands with Shaw, thank Rachel and her husband, reclaim their outerwear and make their exit. The Doctor noticed the bodyguard observing him casually.
Elizabeth joined him as the last two attendees were seen off at the door by Rachel and her spouse. "How's the knee, Doctor Smith?"
"Much improved, I think." He removed the ice pack to reveal a much more normal sized knee. While the ice definitely helped, his Gallifreyan constitution likely played more of a role in the expedited healing.
"That looks much better." Rachel prodded his kneecap gently. "You should still stay off it as much as possible, though. Keep it elevated and ice it for 20 minutes every four hours."
"And who is this?" Rachel's husband joined them. He looked older than his wife, and nearly bald. The Doctor was just about to ask where Shaw had gone when the man himself stepped out of the bathroom, waving his hands to dry them. Shaw joined the scrum around the Doctor, along with his campaign manager. The bodyguard stood near the door. The mobile was nowhere in sight. He watched the proceedings expressionlessly.
"This is Doctor Smith. He came with Elizabeth."
"Martin Shaw, pleased to meet you." The senator extended a hand, which the Doctor shook.
"I'm so sorry you missed our coffee clatch. Can we count on your vote?"
The Doctor cleared his throat.
"Actually, I'm not local. I am a political analyst. I have some information for you. I showed up at your headquarters and Elizabeth was kind enough to drive me over."
The campaign manager interceded. "We're always looking for good intel. And where did you say you were from?" The Doctor was grateful he'd done his homework properly before leaving the TARDIS. He ignored the campaign manager and directed his comments toward Shaw.
"I'm from the Brookings Institute in DC. My group studies polling data for both parties and runs data modelling."
"That sounds interesting," the campaign manager answered. "Look, we have another group coming to the hotel to meet with the Senator, so time is short. Why don't you ride with us?"
The Doctor saw it was unlikely he would get time alone with Shaw. The car ride might be his only chance to talk to the man at all.
"Fine. Thanks. Elizabeth?"
"No, you go on. I need to check in on a canvassing team on the other side of town. Best of luck with your knee."