Author's Notes:
Sorry for another significant delay. No promises as to when the next chapter will be ready, but I am fully invested in seeing it through. Thanks for your patience!
Chapter 17
From the journal of Brigadier General Alastair Lethenbridge Stewart
28 February, 1985, Unified Intelligence Task Force, Earth, London, England
I think this is the longest gap between entries I've ever had. Shameful! My dear Doris passed away five years ago today. Looking at the previous page, I see my last entry was the day before she was taken from me. Needless to say, my whole world shifted on its axis when I awoke that fateful morning to discover she had died in her sleep. The coroner said it was a massive heart attack, and she likely did not suffer.
The anniversary of Doris' passing and today's report from the detective I hired to keep tabs on Kate in Bristol led me to open you again, dear journal. You hold my secrets from the last thirty years; it would be remiss to withhold my news even from you. Perhaps someday you will fall into Kate's hands, if she'll have anything to do with my effects when I leave this earth.
I am sixty-five now, and my superior at UNIT makes the case for my retirement at least once a fortnight. The thing is, it often feels like my work here at UNIT is the only thing keeping me going. If they take that away, then what will I do? Who will I be? I've been in uniform my entire adult life. For one thing, I would have to buy a whole wardrobe of clothes, and, as Doris often reminded me, I have no fashion sense and am also color blind.
Things have gotten so interesting over the years. The alien incursions have grown more frequent and complex. Possibly they've always been going on and we are only now becoming aware of them. At any rate, UNIT has mapped out over 250 non-human sentient species. While many seem peaceful, several are hostile and seem to have an unhealthy interest in planet earth. We've managed to avoid some pretty dire situations over the years, largely due to what we've learned from earlier run-ins with alien life. Most notably, the Doctor's intermittent presence brought us forward quite a bit though we haven't seen him for many years, now.
I had a dream about the him last night. At least it seemed like the Doctor, but his face had changed yet again. He looked older, almost like his third incarnation, but thinner. Harder. He had a sickly aspect. Somehow, I knew it was him.
In the dream, I was at the summer cottage in Southhampton. I haven't been there in so long, it's surprising that the dream was set there. I was the same age I am now. Doris was still gone.
I came downstairs in my robe and slippers and there he was, sitting at the kitchen table. I had the sense he was in danger, as usual, probably having stuck his long nose in where it didn't belong.
"You!" I said. His thin lips pressed into a smile, but his eyes were serious.
"Yes, it's me, Brigadier. Long time no see."
"It's been so long. I thought you'd forgotten about us here on Earth."
"Not at all. You are always very much on my mind." The Doctor studied me appraisingly.
"Perhaps I have been gone too long. I apologize for that."
"Well, what brings you here now?"
The time lord leaned forward. The look in his eye caused a sinking feeling in my stomach. The hair on my arms stood on end. Somehow, I knew this Doctor was much older than when I'd last seen him, and had deep wounds, spiritual or otherwise, from his experiences.
"Brigadier, you've got to make things up with Kate. Things are very difficult for her right now. She's in danger. But you know how stubborn she is. She won't be the first to call. Right now, she really needs a father. Please. Give her a ring."
The dream faded, and I awoke with that same hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.
And now about today's report from the detective, which makes the dream feel all the more like a prophecy.
First, let me recount what's been going on with Kate, which hasn't made it to this journal yet – largely because I hoped it was a temporary rift in our relationship.
She cut off all communications after she went through with that sham of a wedding to The Bastard a little over six years ago. Doris found ways to keep in touch, but Kate wanted nothing to do with me, or at least that's what she said the night before the wedding. She was furious because I told her I couldn't support the marriage. She knew how I felt about him, I'd never made it a secret. Since the wedding I'd tried to reach out, but she never returned my calls.
I suspect The Bastard kept her away for his own reasons. Kate didn't come to Doris' funeral. Kate is hard-headed, but she would not miss her own mother's funeral for anything. I hired the detective to get a sense of what her situation was.
Over the years, there have been reports of domestic disturbance complaints from the neighbors. Kate left school when The Bastard got the job in Bristol, and as far as the detective has discovered, she has not renewed her studies. She's had a few part-time jobs, but apparently is not working now. That's also not like Kate. It's possible The Bastard wants to make sure she has no outside ties. He's certainly cut her off from her family and friends here in London.
He's been arrested for drinks driving and disorderly conduct. On both occurrences, Kate paid his bail money. There was an ER visit for Kate just a few months ago, though we don't know what for. But yesterday's report was truly not good.
The detective has taken photographs over the years of Kate, of The Bastard. This time he brought me pictures he'd taken with a telephoto lens of Kate leaving their flat and walking to the car park. She had bruises on her face and one arm was in a sling. Her lower lip was badly swollen. I had suspected abuse all along, but this was the first hard evidence. Even worse, she was very plainly pregnant.
So now, I'm faced with this dilemma. Do I summon the intestinal fortitude to ring her, risking another verbal evisceration and rejection? What if she denies everything? Do I tell her I've had her followed? Does she even have the same phone number? Why is she still with that bastard of a husband?
Should I go there? If I saw The Bastard, I think I'd tear his testicles off and stuff them down his throat. If I had my service revolver with me, he would not last long.
Should I call the Bristol Police Force? I suppose there is enough evidence for them to look into it, but I fear that might make things even worse for Kate.
I can't lose her, not after losing Doris. I know I wasn't much of a father. I was never really there for her. If something is wrong, will she let me be there for her now?
I guess there's only one way to find out. Doctor, wherever you are, thanks for helping me remember that I am her father, no matter how she treats me, and I love her.
1 January, 2026, Earth, London, England, Royal London Hospital
On New Year's Day and against medical advice, Kate returned to the upper basement of Royal London. The two flights of stairs were exhausting, but she rested when she needed to and carried on until she made it. The look on Osgood's face when she rounded the corner and nearly collided with her took some of the sting out of her grueling ascent.
Within an hour of her return she managed to get the full story of what happened during her absence from Osgood and Jax. Kate thought she showed remarkable restraint when she expressed her displeasure about being kept in the dark for two weeks.
While unhappy to hear about the defection and loss of critical supplies, she felt Osgood handled things well in her absence. Thanks to some additional supply deliveries from the Doctor, they had electricity and enough food for a while, and were safe from the radiation as long as they stayed on the basement levels at Royal London.
Unfortunately, conditions outside were rapidly deteriorating, partially due to a stagnant weather pattern. Thick clouds hung over London and a persistent freezing drizzle made any movement above ground hazardous even without the elevated gamma radiation.
After a meal and a rest, Kate summoned the executive committee. She laid out an idea she'd been mulling over while on the ward. The reception was mixed, but after much discussion she was relieved when they reached consensus on a way forward with her very risky plan.
It had to do with the coming of winter and the building evidence that a rescue was not imminent, and conditions would continue to worsen. They needed to find help. Non-human help.
While the salvage team had been to the remains of UNIT HQ under the Tower of London, they did not find much that would help with current circumstances. They found weapons and quite a bit of intact but inoperable equipment from command central. Osgood managed to recover a few things from her lab that might prove useful if they could somehow manage to restore the Internet.
The things that could help them most at this point were at Torchwood One.
Torchwood One was supposedly destroyed after the battle of Canary Wharf. But Kate knew from intelligence when UNIT was still operational that the underground installment was no longer in use, but carefully preserved for possible future use. It likely still held an arsenal of alien tech salvaged and repurposed for human use. Deep underground and designed to withstand any number of apocalyptic scenarios, the facility might still be habitable, if not operational.
The committee adjourned when they ran out of ideas for getting there and setting up a small base. Kate hoped that rest would bring fresh perspective and maybe a workable plan or two.
Karn, Encampment of the Sisterhood
"Please try to eat, Doctor."
He pushed the lightly seasoned vegetables, grains and succulent meat around in his bowl, but there was nothing for it. He couldn't force himself to fill the spoon and raise it to his lips. While the chorenn had largely left him during the healing trance, his stomach had yet to recover from the many bouts severe nausea the toxic time travel byproduct caused.
They were in the largely unpopulated communal meal space in the citadel of Karn. O'Hila and the other sisters were conducting a lengthy solstice ritual in the extensive caverns under the citadel. O'Hila magnanimously allowed Peter to observe. Perhaps she realized that Hanar and Erdith needed undisturbed time with the Doctor to explain things and come up with a plan.
"Starck's real name is Alistair Beckman. He is a mutant human from Earth year 2579 on the alternate timeline. At this point, it makes more sense to call it an alternate timeline, rather than a corrupt one."
Hanar offered Erdith and the Doctor a basket of traditional flat bread made from indigenous grains and seeds before taking one for himself. He tore off a corner, dipped it in oil and savored a few bites before continuing.
"On the alternate timeline, Earth experienced large-scale global thermonuclear war in late October and early November of 2025. Fifty percent of the human population was eliminated during the conflict. An additional 1.2 billion people were casualties of the immediate aftermath in the first half of 2026. Longer-term, the environment was seriously altered, leading to a great extinction event. Very few species survived, and those that did evolved to adapt to the changed environment."
Erdith picked up the narrative from there. "Several human enclaves survived and built subterranean colonies. The first two hundred years were touch and go, but over time the radiation cleared, and the environment improved. The human population began to grow again."
"By the time Beckman was an adult, human society was well reestablished. The technology of the early twenty-first century was not lost and served as a springboard to further advancement. Alistair Beckman's generation never knew a time when there was no long-distance space travel and time travel was well established. On this alternate timeline, the human race was a member of the Universal Collaborative for Temporal Insight. They had delegates on Sagacity. Beckman was one of those delegates."
The Doctor broke in on the narrative. "Wait a minute. You're telling me that the Collaborative itself is involved in this corrupt timeline? I thought that was supposed to be impossible. Sagacity-"
Hanar finished the sentence for him. "Exists in a state of stasis, outside of normal space and time. Yes, we thought that, too. But on the alternate timeline, Sagacity is within the normal limits of space-time, and affected by all the usual ebbs and flows of the timestream."
"That's very interesting," the Doctor mused. "But the very first thing the time lords did when they moved the Universal Collaborative to Sagacity was to engineer the stasis state, to ensure all time measurements were not influenced by outside events. That happened long before humans had even invented the combustion engine."
"All true," Hanar agreed, "and yet, the alternate Sagacity sits within normal space-time." He looked over to Erdith. "Do you think it's safe to tell him…"
"Yes, I think we have to." Erdith touched the Doctor's arm again. He sensed compassion and wondered why.
"Doctor, in the alternate time stream, you made a different decision that ended the time war. Instead of working with your other incarnations to place Gallifrey into a pocket universe frozen in time, you, well…" She faltered, casting her eyes aside. The Doctor felt a lump form in his throat.
"I know what I did, Erdith. I remember that bit. I used The Moment to destroy Gallifrey. I sacrificed our people to end the time war."
"You did, Doctor. With no Gallifrey, the stasis state around Sagacity rapidly disintegrated. And the composition of the Universal Collaborative shifted with the absence of the time lords. It had far-reaching effects, but let's get back to the situation on Earth and Beckman's role in events. But I'm not going to tell you anything else until you eat a bite of food."
The Doctor grimaced, and he did nothing to hide the irritation he felt from Erdith and Hanar. Erdith smiled a little and nodded toward his bowl. When he was sure she meant business, he captured a few grains of rice with his spoon and brought them to his mouth. His stomach quivered, but he managed to swallow them.
"Now a proper bite, please."
After he'd managed it, Erdith refilled his water and continued.
"Things began to get interesting on Earth's alternate timeline long before Alistair Beckman was even born. Time travel was discovered in Cardiff, England in 2055, just thirty years after the nuclear war."
"You're kidding."
Hanar answered.
"I know it's surprising, even nearly impossible, but that's what happened. On the true timeline, humans didn't discover time travel for another two hundred years, yet, on the corrupt timeline, with Earth's environment still barely supporting life, the right sequence of events occurred to result in the discovery. And someone you know led the discovery."
Hanar and Erdith waited, seemingly sure the Doctor would know right away who they were talking about. He rifled through is memories, trying to consider someone in Earth's history that might be that person, but came up with nothing.
"I have no idea. Who is it?"
Erdith smiled. "A certain very bright, precocious, ginger-haired boy who also happens to be missing an arm at the moment."
"Peter?"
"Peter Pennington grew up to be a leading astrophysicist even with no formal education after the age of twelve. He worked under the tutelage of one Petronella Osgood, and later a few other notable men and women of science during the early post-nuclear years.
"Shortly after your last visit to Kate Stewart's subterranean community of survivors in London 2025, a salvage team used the last of the radiation tablets you provided to complete a risky mission. They accessed the defunct Torchwood One at Canary Wharf. Finding much of the underground portions of the installation largely still fit to purpose, they used a few of the radiation filters and rations you generously provided to establish a small base there. A few years later, they sent another team to Torchwood Three in Cardiff, also known as the Torchwood hub.
"In his mid-twenties, Peter was appointed to lead a team of scientists at the restored Torchwood hub in a series of time travel experiments. Needless to say, they got a jump start thanks to the repository of alien tech at the hub, but without Peter they never would have learned how any of it worked.
"The thing is, Peter's not going to be able to do any of this in the alternate timeline if you don't return him to the enclave under Royal London. In a sense, you're creating a timeline error on the alternate timeline. It's yet another deep paradox to untangle, but there is probably no need to if we can restore the true timeline.
"There's much more to fill in on the alternate timeline, but it's not necessary to know it all right now. For our purposes, it's enough to know that Peter Pennington created the ability for time travel on Earth 200 years early, and that led to Alistair Beckman, a mutant human time traveler, discovering that his own timeline was a result of a major fracture in the true timeline, and that if the true timeline were restored, his would wink out of existence." Erdith paused.
"So, it seems that I am deeply involved in this. I've met Peter. I've met Starck – I mean Beckman. It sounds like my blowing up of Gallifrey shaped some events on the alternate timeline. How far back does it go?"
"Yes, Doctor, I am afraid you are deeply involved. We don't know how far back it goes yet," Erdith answered. "There is much we can't tell you because of your role in events, but there are a few critical things you need to know.
"We think you are the only one who can set one of the largest fractures in the timeline to rights. The fact that you can remember using The Moment to end the time war confirms it. That means you are a singularity, shared by both versions of the timeline."
"That's not possible."
Hanar smiled a little, but the Doctor picked up a heavy sadness through the psychic connection.
"Not impossible, Doctor, merely highly improbable. You are truly unique, and that's why only you can resolve certain discrepancies on the timeline."
The Doctor wasn't sure he liked the direction this development might lead, but he nodded to indicate his understanding. He suddenly felt very old,and very tired. Erdith rubbed his arm again.
"Have another three bites – and proper ones, mind you – and Hanar will tell you what we know so far and how you can help."
Grudgingly, the Doctor ate three bites of the cooling meal. His stomach felt steady, if not actually happy to have food.