Author's Notes:
Sorry for the delay. While this is not a cross-over, there are a few cameo appearances in this chapter and the next that warranted a little research.
Chapter 11
Tuesday, 2 February 2016, Durham, New Hampshire, 06:47
The Doctor collected himself. "Yes, it's all easily explained. I'm-"
But Shaw cut him off. "Doctor Smith called me last night. He has some new data and raised some strong points. I asked him to come by and walk me through the new information."
"And that's why you materialized out of nowhere. And that's why Doctor Smith here is wearing a vortex manipulator." Fred grabbed his right arm roughly and studied the device.
"Yep, that's what this is, though I must say this one looks like it's been through the wringer. You do too, Doctor." Fred looked piercingly at the Doctor.
Clearly, we're not playing with a novice. Time to come clean and see what happens.
"You're right, Fred, I am a time traveler. And somehow, I doubt your name is really Fred. And how did you come to know about vortex manipulators?"
Fred didn't break his gaze. "That's a long story, Doctor Smith. First, tell me yours. Why are you so interested in the senator here?"
Shaw looked like he wanted to interrupt, but the Doctor waved him off.
"I am not from around here, but I visit Earth often. I received a distress call from someone in 2025. When I was able to catch up to her, I discovered a world in ruins. As a time traveler, though, I knew it wasn't supposed to be that way. I did some research and discovered that Earth's timeline was dramatically altered. One of the first divergences from the true timeline was the Iowa caucuses, when Senator Shaw did not withdraw from the race.
"When we met in Iowa that was my first attempt to repair the timeline. I lied about being from the Brookings Institute and tried to convince the senator to end his campaign. I thought I had. But then when I jumped ahead, I discovered that he did not withdraw."
"It was Starck," Shaw broke in. "He talked me out of it."
Fred nodded knowingly.
"This was my second attempt. I came here to the senator's room this morning and explained the true situation. He demanded proof, so I took him to my time vessel and showed him the future."
"That convinced me. Also made me sick as a dog, apparently." Shaw did still look a bit green. For that matter, the Doctor still felt awful. Is that the cumulative effect of my other trips or is the vortex manipulator still leaking chorenn? He set that question aside for a more convenient time.
Fred sat on the bed and looked at Shaw.
"So. are you ending your campaign, senator?"
"You bet I am. What the Doctor showed me – what I saw, well, it can't be described." The Doctor surmised that the experience made a fundamental change in Martin Shaw.
The senator looked at his watch. "And best to do it now, before Starck shows up. But first, I really need to call my wife, so if you will excuse me?"
The Doctor shook Shaw's hand and said his goodbyes before following Fred out into the hallway.
"So, who are you, really?" The Doctor asked the burly bodyguard/driver whose name couldn't possibly be Fred.
At Fred's insistence, they visited the hotel's café so he could get coffee and breakfast from the buffet. The Doctor passed on the food but accepted Fred's offer of coffee. The café was well supplied with sugar packets.
"I am an operative from an organization called Torchwood. Have you heard of it?"
"Heard of it? I'm the reason it came to be."
"So, you're the Doctor. I thought that might be the case." Fred dug into a pile of scrambled eggs.
"You've heard of me, then."
"Well, we have a mutual friend. Jack Harkness?" Fred talked with his mouth full. The Doctor's stomach cringed. He pushed his coffee away.
"Yes, of course. Captain Jack. When did Torchwood start recruiting Americans? And why is Torchwood interested in Martin Shaw?" Fred smiled cryptically.
"Well, I wasn't so much recruited as conscripted from the CIA, but that's a long story.
"We picked up elevated artron energy levels at different points in the US over a number of months. After some heavy analysis, we finally pinpointed it to Shaw's campaign. I joined up as Shaw's bodyguard in Iowa. While there, I got readings on everyone that had any contact with him. While Shaw is clean – well, he was until his little adventure with you, that is, Starck's marinating in the stuff."
"I knew there was something about him. I just thought it was because he was so – no offense – American."
"Offense taken. Not everyone in America is a complete asshole, Doctor."
"What else do you know about Starck?"
"Not much. I lifted his wallet and took a picture of his driver's license, which looked real enough, but the Department of Motor Vehicles has a different person associated with that name and driver's license number. A 90-year-old dead guy. I took Starck's picture and even got a DNA sample from his coffee cup and ran a search through my contacts at the CIA, FBI and INTERPOL and came up with bupkus. This guy's not from around here."
"Alien, do you think?"
"Could be. Or maybe he's just a time traveler. Anyway, he's here for a reason, and so are you."
"Perhaps we ought to pay Mr. Starck a visit." The Doctor held up his sonic. "I have access to a much broader data bank. I haven't scanned him yet, but I could."
But they were too late. Fred's call to the campaign manager's mobile went unanswered, as did his knock on Starck's hotel room door.
The Doctor used his sonic to open the room. The bed had not been slept in. There were no personal belongings. Whoever had been staying here hadn't slept in the bed or used the shower before leaving this morning.
The Doctor scanned the room, hoping to pick up trace readings from Starck. Sure enough, the readings included artron energy. Whoever or whatever Starck was, he had time travelled recently.
"Fred, I want to go back to the TARDIS so I can study the details of the scan more thoroughly and also see what I can find out about Starck from the timeline. Do you fancy a trip?"
"If it'll get me some answers on Starck, I'm up for it."
"First, though, I was wondering if we could swing by Torchwood. You're right about my device, it's not in the best of shape. If Torchwood has a spare vortex manipulator, or even some parts I could use to fix mine, that would be a big help."
"We can certainly check. I know we don't have a spare device. The only one I've ever seen is Jack's. We do have a junk bin, though. Maybe there's something in it that will help you."
"I need field coils." Fred smiled.
"I wouldn't know anything about that, but you're welcome to look."
Tuesday, 2 February 2016, Earth, Torchwood Institute—Las Angeles, 10:30, local time
When they materialized at the American Torchwood headquarters, the Doctor was taken with another attack of nausea. Fred forced him to sit with his head between his knees after he nearly passed out.
When he came to his senses, he became aware that someone was holding an ice pack to the back of his neck. He straightened up and pushed the hand holding the ice pack away.
"Thanks. I'm feeling better now."
"You have a fever." The female voice sounded vaguely familiar.
"How would you know?"
"We have a file on you. Your normal body temperature is 59° Farenheit, or 15° Celsius." The doctor heard a high-pitched tone in his right ear. The female held up the ear thermometer so he could see the reading. "See? You have a fever, Doctor."
"Where is Fred?"
"Who?"
"The agent I arrived with."
"He's looking through the junk drawer. Says you needed something. And his name isn't really Fred. It's Rex Matheson."
"Is Jack Harkness here?"
"No. We haven't seen Jack in a while. I'm Gwen Cooper, by the way. Do you remember me? We met briefly back in 2008. You looked a bit different back then."
It took the Doctor a moment to comb through his memories. "Gwen. That's right. I do remember. I had spikey hair and wore sandshoes back then." That got a smile from Gwen.
"Yes, you did." She stepped away and returned with a glass of water. The Doctor accepted it gratefully. The cool water did a lot to clear the taste of bile and soothe his abused throat.
Rex, AKA, "Fred" entered the room pushing a utility cart carrying several metal crates.
"Are you feeling better, Doctor?"
The Doctor eyed the Torchwood agent, looking for signs of distress from the trip via faulty vortex manipulator after such a large breakfast.
"Much better, Rex. How are you feeling, by the way?" Matheson grinned at the use of his actual name.
"Feeling perky. Hungry again, actually. I was thinking a nice greasy burger would go down well right now."
The Doctor nearly gagged.
"Rex has something in common with Jack, Doctor. He can't die. He also has a cast-iron stomach."
After a few deep breaths, the Doctor's stomach settled, and he felt close to normal. He stood and made his way over to the cart. Well, okay, maybe not close to normal. Everything ached.
"What have you got here?"
Fred shrugged. "Search me. We have a collection of alien artifacts. The ones we can figure out and use, we keep. The ones we can't get working go in the bin. Feel free to search through. Maybe you'll find those coil things you mentioned."
After about an hour spent picking through what was mostly a collection of useless space junk, the Doctor struck gold. He uncovered one nearly pristine field coil at the bottom of a crate. After another hour of meticulous work cleaning the entire device and replacing the most suspect field coil with the new one, he said his goodbyes to Gwen, clasped Rex tightly, and pressed the home button on the vortex manipulator.