STEALING EDEN, PART SEVEN
Paul had left the Junior Gazette office quietly and without comment after seeing Spike and Lynda on television. Sarah noted an odd expression on his face, and couldn't figure out what should be troubling him. She didn't follow him back to his office right away, but waited a discreet amount of time before setting off to find him. Paul's office was "technically" the janitor's closet down the hall, although having a TARDIS masquerading as a janitor's closet tended to minimize the space problems janitor's closets traditionally have. She opened the door and stepped inside, experiencing the temporary disorientation of passing through the interface from the outside world to the TARDIS. The office inside was empty, and Sarah followed her instincts and set off down an interior corridor to find him. After a few twists and turns, she came upon the living room she recognized from the railroad car at Norbridge Station, complete with the big blue sofa. As before, there Paul was, asleep on the couch. A pot of tea and a half-filled cup sat on a table adjoining the sofa, as well as a vase containing a sprig of lilac flowers, which scented the air of the room in pleasant fashion. A smile came to her face, and she sat down on the floor beside the couch and began her vigil.
One eye popped open. "Problem?" he asked drowsily.
"I don't have one," she said. "I think you have, though."
"You think well, Sarah Jackson," he said. The eye closed.
"Is it something I can help you with?" Sarah asked. "I am your managing editor."
He opened both eyes, gave a loud yawn, and sat up on the couch. "Yes, you are. Quite right. And I will not have my managing editor sitting on the floor at my feet." He motioned for her to take the other half of the couch, and she did as he asked.
"I'm not sure how true it is that managing directors and their bosses should sit on couches and discuss problems, either." she noted. "I don't think Matt Kerr and Chrissie Stuart would work in that fashion."
"Very true, and I suspect most business people do not," Paul replied. "I, however, am not raised in the finer arts of Business. I deal with people as I choose, and if formality demands it, I can be as tough as Rupert Murdoch or Bill Gates. I choose to handle things differently at this moment." He took a sip of tea from the cup on the table. "Peppermint," he said, "Much better hot, but always good for the stomach."
"This has to do with Lynda, doesn't it?"
Paul put down the cup and looked very impressed. "Very much so," he said. "My employers are not happy with me, and less so with her. They want something done."
"I thought you were in charge of the paper. What employers are you talking about?" Sarah sounded puzzled.
"Sarah, you don't know who I am, do you? I'm a lot more than just a rich guy who runs around buying newspapers. I have all this alien technology, and that comes at a rather steep price. The answers you want are such that I sometimes wish I could tell you, but I'm not sure you should know. You'd wind up getting hurt, too."
His eyes were on the painting. She glanced there, too. "Let me decide that," Sarah quietly said. "I'm not a little girl, Paul."
The eyes fell back on her. "No, you aren't." he said. "You are beautiful, intelligent---and curious." Paul sighed and took another sip of tea. "You want to know what I know? Here's a sample. Lynda Day did not die in the fire. She was rescued by an alien of the race known throughout the universe as the Time Lords, and while in the company of that alien, stole a book."
"A book?" Sarah said incredulously.
"Not just a book, Sarah. Her own autobiography that she'll write in 2012. She knows her own future, and has been using it to get the goods on her enemies and friends since she got hold of it. Like the little charade in the apartment where you walked in on them---Lynda knew you were going to be coming, so she arranged that bit of panto for your benefit. She also proposed to Spike based on that damn book."
"Go on," Sarah said, wondering how Paul would have known about that!
"Her little explosion in the Gazette office at Julie backfired on her, but she knows some things about Julie and Matt Kerr that aren't public knowledge yet. She was expecting to have a triumphant coup, but they outfoxed her this once. I don't think she'll be so sloppy next time."
"Have you read the book, too?" Sarah asked. "You seem to know an awful lot about this nobody else does."
"I was briefed by the Time Lords. They wanted me to 'fix' the problem for them, so I tried stealing the book back, and failed. Now they've narrowed my options a little. They want her dead."
"No, you aren't going to do that!" Sarah said in disbelief.
"Certainly not!" Paul exclaimed. "I can't. Lynda may be a pain, but she's not unredeemable, and certainly doesn't deserve to be exterminated for this. I can't do it, Sarah. Lynda and I are going to have to sort this out, and before the Time Lords decide to take matters into their own hands."
"That's what your friend in the cowl was here to tell you," Sarah guessed. "Do the deed or else?"
"Precisely. My relationship to the Time Lords is something of an embarrassment to them."
"And what exactly is your relationship to them?" Sarah asked.
"That's a long story, Sarah. If I tell you, you become endangered. If they erase me, they'd dearly love to erase anyone else who knew the connection. It is your choice, Sarah."
"I know," she said. "And I want to know."
"If I tell you, it stays between us."
"You'd be taking a chance asking a reporter to keep a secret, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, I am, Sarah. But I trust you. Please be worthy of that judgment."
"I will," she said.
The phone in Kate's hotel room rang, and Kate (who just walked through the door) ran to catch it.
"Hi, Kate," the voice on the other end said. "Read your stuff."
"What did you think, Julie?" Kate asked, still breathing heavily.
"This is good," Julie said. "We need to corroborate Angie's stuff, though. Leslie McDowell is one of the financial team that is handling the buyout of the Junior Gazette. We can get her here. You dig up whatever you can there, but we don't have enough money to keep you there longer than another day. You two fly home tomorrow night."
"Julie, we can't rush this. Do you realize the implications this has if we're right? We have to nail this story down tightly. No mistakes."
"Kate, we aren't printing this. This is blackmail stuff in case Marriner tries to mess around with us. I wish I could give you this story, but Marriner's never going to let us run it and he'd likely do something to mess with our minds to stop it from happening."
Kate protested loudly. "It isn't fair to us to send us all the way out here and then pull this stunt."
"Life isn't fair," Julie spat. "If it was, I'd be the one Marriner was fawning over and not Sarah Jackson. This is an opening move in a long game. A very important one, but only a beginning."
"Yeah," Kate said disgustedly. "And Kevin and I are just the pawns."
"Once upon a time," Paul began. Sarah made a face. "Oh, come on! Give an old man his due here."
"You need a little snappier beginning or I'm going to fall asleep!"
"Very well. The Time Lords of the planet Gallifrey are an ancient race who live on the other side of the galaxy from us. They are humanoid in appearance--the man you met was one of them--but they have certain very key differences from humans. Time Lords are able to live for thousands of years, and when a body gets to be damaged or worn out, Time Lords have the ability to regenerate themselves a new body. Provided the damage isn't too great, mind you. If my head falls off, I don't have the power to grow a new one."
"Couldn't you live forever doing that?"
"There are only twelve regenerations possible. Then it truly is curtains for them. Time Lords are to some degree telepathic, are more resistant to extremes in environment, and heal very rapidly when ill or injured. Because of their advanced life-spans and some other complicated stuff I don't pretend to understand, Time Lords do not reproduce. When a new Time Lord is needed, one is grown from a gene loom. Or that has always been the theory, until recently."
"Life without sex. There's an interesting concept," Sarah said sarcastically.
"Not really. Time Lords are very boring. They debate a lot, pontificate even more, and scheme amongst themselves constantly. They observe the universe, but don't officially allow themselves to interfere." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Officially," Marriner continued, "Is a lot different from reality. I ought to know.
There was a brilliant scientist that ran afoul of the Time Lords once, by the name of Angelus. Angelus was a great geneticist who thought he'd try to hybridize the Time Lords with another species to create a better Time Lord. This idea got him blackballed from Gallifrey, and he went off to pursue his theories using a variety of alien species. All of his ideas failed, until he turned up on Earth and tried it on a human child he happened to kidnap from a family he killed to cover up his crime."
"You," Sarah said quietly. Paul nodded.
"I am no longer fully human. I'm not fully a Time Lord, either. I have some of the characteristics of each. I do have the ability to regenerate, which is why I survived being shot. Jennifer's wounds were too great. She never had a chance to regenerate."
"Did Angelus create both of you?" Sarah asked.
"We met, fell in love, and got married. What neither of us knew was that the modifications Angelus made have the ability to be passed from person to person in much the same way AIDS can. Time Lord biology is much more advanced than your own, and tries to assert itself when instituted into a new host. That normally kills the host, or makes it rather ill at the very least. Jennifer got quite sick on our honeymoon, but recovered after a month We didn't know until we started being able to read each other's minds that anything had happened. She became a Time Lord hybrid just as I did. Only we didn't have very much time together.
"So what happened to Angelus?" Sarah asked.
"The Time Lords got wind of Angelus after a few years and took him away. There was a great debate about what to do with me--whether I should be allowed to live or be killed. I told the Time Lords I would be happy to continue as an agent in residence to assist in any problems that might occur on Earth. They agreed, with the stipulation that I was not to use Angelus' TARDIS to travel in time and space. I cheat a little on that account, but I don't go hopping around the universe or off to visit Julius Caesar or anything complicated like that."
"I thought you'd never call," Kate told Lynda.
"It has been rather busy here. Spike and I have been touring talk shows all day telling the world we're going to be married. I haven't had a chance to get home for a while, and I just saw your fax."
"You two are going to actually do it?" Kate exclaimed, after a screech of delight.
"Absolutely, Kate. No doubts."
"I'm happy for you both," Kate replied.
"Enough adulation. We're paying for the call, let's get to work."
"What do you think of what we've discovered so far."
"I think we have a problem," Lynda replied firmly. "Marriner left a message asking for a meeting tomorrow morning at the offices. Quote: 'We need to discuss your future.' Bad news."
"One on one meeting?"
"No, he's bringing Sarah with him. Fat lot of good that will do me. I can twirl Sarah around my finger like nobody can, but if he's what we think he is, I'm not gonna have a prayer with either of them."
"Julie says we can't print it no matter what we find."
"Fool!" Lynda spat. "We have to get this story out to somebody, even if it means I have to write it by hand and set off the fire alarm at the school again to print it. This is too important for all of us not to follow up. What's she doing this for anyway if she won't run it-- blackmail?"
"Yeah, that word did come up."
"Amateur hack! I'm going to really enjoy bursting her bubble."
"One more thing, Lynda. Julie says the McDowell girl is one of the financial team on the Junior Gazette buyout."
"Is she now?" Lynda said, interest piquing. "I think I'll do a little investigating myself, if that's the case."
"Assuming Julie doesn't beat you to her, and she'll even talk to us. Angie seemed to think she'd keep quiet."
"We won't know until we ask.."
Night had fallen, and the Junior Gazette staff had departed for their homes. Sarah had left too, her head spinning with new ideas and new concepts. Only Marriner was left now, until his peace was disturbed by Sophie and Laura barging in waving a piece of paper.
"News from America...."
"Kate and Kevin are there. They've met Angie Becker...."
"What are we going to do?"
Paul held up his hand to still the commotion. "The end game is beginning, you two. From this point on, you stick close to me and keep the guns loaded. Sophie, get Brigadier Crichton from UNIT on the phone. I'll want to speak to him immediately. After that, get Lynda Day on the phone personally and tell her tomorrow, 8AM, Sarah's office. No discussions. Laura, check to make sure that the cloaking devices are working and that no one will recognize you. I want you both at the Gazette building tomorrow as insurance against Thriptos and his Agency goons trying anything."
Sophie smartly saluted and went off to do her job. Laura lingered a bit. "Do you want the microphones taping tomorrow in the office?"
Marriner nodded. "I also want a camera rolling in there with a feed to the TARDIS communication systems. Whatever happens in that office gets broadcast live to the universe, and if the Time Lords get caught on Candid Camera, so much the worse for them."
Laura gingerly put her hand on Paul's. "You don't sound like you're going to win this one. Why?"
"Two problems, one room." Paul turned the teacup upside down, looking in vain for one last drop. "Ties up the loose ends in a hurry," he shrugged. He gave Laura a hug. "We may not win this one, but we'll go down fighting, right?"
"Absolutely, sir." Laura saluted and left the room.
Paul returned the salute, but when Laura looked back as she was leaving the room, she noticed his gaze had departed from her and gone to the painting of his wife on the wall. "Circles," he said quietly. "Always traveling in circles."
Paul had left the Junior Gazette office quietly and without comment after seeing Spike and Lynda on television. Sarah noted an odd expression on his face, and couldn't figure out what should be troubling him. She didn't follow him back to his office right away, but waited a discreet amount of time before setting off to find him. Paul's office was "technically" the janitor's closet down the hall, although having a TARDIS masquerading as a janitor's closet tended to minimize the space problems janitor's closets traditionally have. She opened the door and stepped inside, experiencing the temporary disorientation of passing through the interface from the outside world to the TARDIS. The office inside was empty, and Sarah followed her instincts and set off down an interior corridor to find him. After a few twists and turns, she came upon the living room she recognized from the railroad car at Norbridge Station, complete with the big blue sofa. As before, there Paul was, asleep on the couch. A pot of tea and a half-filled cup sat on a table adjoining the sofa, as well as a vase containing a sprig of lilac flowers, which scented the air of the room in pleasant fashion. A smile came to her face, and she sat down on the floor beside the couch and began her vigil.
One eye popped open. "Problem?" he asked drowsily.
"I don't have one," she said. "I think you have, though."
"You think well, Sarah Jackson," he said. The eye closed.
"Is it something I can help you with?" Sarah asked. "I am your managing editor."
He opened both eyes, gave a loud yawn, and sat up on the couch. "Yes, you are. Quite right. And I will not have my managing editor sitting on the floor at my feet." He motioned for her to take the other half of the couch, and she did as he asked.
"I'm not sure how true it is that managing directors and their bosses should sit on couches and discuss problems, either." she noted. "I don't think Matt Kerr and Chrissie Stuart would work in that fashion."
"Very true, and I suspect most business people do not," Paul replied. "I, however, am not raised in the finer arts of Business. I deal with people as I choose, and if formality demands it, I can be as tough as Rupert Murdoch or Bill Gates. I choose to handle things differently at this moment." He took a sip of tea from the cup on the table. "Peppermint," he said, "Much better hot, but always good for the stomach."
"This has to do with Lynda, doesn't it?"
Paul put down the cup and looked very impressed. "Very much so," he said. "My employers are not happy with me, and less so with her. They want something done."
"I thought you were in charge of the paper. What employers are you talking about?" Sarah sounded puzzled.
"Sarah, you don't know who I am, do you? I'm a lot more than just a rich guy who runs around buying newspapers. I have all this alien technology, and that comes at a rather steep price. The answers you want are such that I sometimes wish I could tell you, but I'm not sure you should know. You'd wind up getting hurt, too."
His eyes were on the painting. She glanced there, too. "Let me decide that," Sarah quietly said. "I'm not a little girl, Paul."
The eyes fell back on her. "No, you aren't." he said. "You are beautiful, intelligent---and curious." Paul sighed and took another sip of tea. "You want to know what I know? Here's a sample. Lynda Day did not die in the fire. She was rescued by an alien of the race known throughout the universe as the Time Lords, and while in the company of that alien, stole a book."
"A book?" Sarah said incredulously.
"Not just a book, Sarah. Her own autobiography that she'll write in 2012. She knows her own future, and has been using it to get the goods on her enemies and friends since she got hold of it. Like the little charade in the apartment where you walked in on them---Lynda knew you were going to be coming, so she arranged that bit of panto for your benefit. She also proposed to Spike based on that damn book."
"Go on," Sarah said, wondering how Paul would have known about that!
"Her little explosion in the Gazette office at Julie backfired on her, but she knows some things about Julie and Matt Kerr that aren't public knowledge yet. She was expecting to have a triumphant coup, but they outfoxed her this once. I don't think she'll be so sloppy next time."
"Have you read the book, too?" Sarah asked. "You seem to know an awful lot about this nobody else does."
"I was briefed by the Time Lords. They wanted me to 'fix' the problem for them, so I tried stealing the book back, and failed. Now they've narrowed my options a little. They want her dead."
"No, you aren't going to do that!" Sarah said in disbelief.
"Certainly not!" Paul exclaimed. "I can't. Lynda may be a pain, but she's not unredeemable, and certainly doesn't deserve to be exterminated for this. I can't do it, Sarah. Lynda and I are going to have to sort this out, and before the Time Lords decide to take matters into their own hands."
"That's what your friend in the cowl was here to tell you," Sarah guessed. "Do the deed or else?"
"Precisely. My relationship to the Time Lords is something of an embarrassment to them."
"And what exactly is your relationship to them?" Sarah asked.
"That's a long story, Sarah. If I tell you, you become endangered. If they erase me, they'd dearly love to erase anyone else who knew the connection. It is your choice, Sarah."
"I know," she said. "And I want to know."
"If I tell you, it stays between us."
"You'd be taking a chance asking a reporter to keep a secret, wouldn't you?"
"Yes, I am, Sarah. But I trust you. Please be worthy of that judgment."
"I will," she said.
The phone in Kate's hotel room rang, and Kate (who just walked through the door) ran to catch it.
"Hi, Kate," the voice on the other end said. "Read your stuff."
"What did you think, Julie?" Kate asked, still breathing heavily.
"This is good," Julie said. "We need to corroborate Angie's stuff, though. Leslie McDowell is one of the financial team that is handling the buyout of the Junior Gazette. We can get her here. You dig up whatever you can there, but we don't have enough money to keep you there longer than another day. You two fly home tomorrow night."
"Julie, we can't rush this. Do you realize the implications this has if we're right? We have to nail this story down tightly. No mistakes."
"Kate, we aren't printing this. This is blackmail stuff in case Marriner tries to mess around with us. I wish I could give you this story, but Marriner's never going to let us run it and he'd likely do something to mess with our minds to stop it from happening."
Kate protested loudly. "It isn't fair to us to send us all the way out here and then pull this stunt."
"Life isn't fair," Julie spat. "If it was, I'd be the one Marriner was fawning over and not Sarah Jackson. This is an opening move in a long game. A very important one, but only a beginning."
"Yeah," Kate said disgustedly. "And Kevin and I are just the pawns."
"Once upon a time," Paul began. Sarah made a face. "Oh, come on! Give an old man his due here."
"You need a little snappier beginning or I'm going to fall asleep!"
"Very well. The Time Lords of the planet Gallifrey are an ancient race who live on the other side of the galaxy from us. They are humanoid in appearance--the man you met was one of them--but they have certain very key differences from humans. Time Lords are able to live for thousands of years, and when a body gets to be damaged or worn out, Time Lords have the ability to regenerate themselves a new body. Provided the damage isn't too great, mind you. If my head falls off, I don't have the power to grow a new one."
"Couldn't you live forever doing that?"
"There are only twelve regenerations possible. Then it truly is curtains for them. Time Lords are to some degree telepathic, are more resistant to extremes in environment, and heal very rapidly when ill or injured. Because of their advanced life-spans and some other complicated stuff I don't pretend to understand, Time Lords do not reproduce. When a new Time Lord is needed, one is grown from a gene loom. Or that has always been the theory, until recently."
"Life without sex. There's an interesting concept," Sarah said sarcastically.
"Not really. Time Lords are very boring. They debate a lot, pontificate even more, and scheme amongst themselves constantly. They observe the universe, but don't officially allow themselves to interfere." Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Officially," Marriner continued, "Is a lot different from reality. I ought to know.
There was a brilliant scientist that ran afoul of the Time Lords once, by the name of Angelus. Angelus was a great geneticist who thought he'd try to hybridize the Time Lords with another species to create a better Time Lord. This idea got him blackballed from Gallifrey, and he went off to pursue his theories using a variety of alien species. All of his ideas failed, until he turned up on Earth and tried it on a human child he happened to kidnap from a family he killed to cover up his crime."
"You," Sarah said quietly. Paul nodded.
"I am no longer fully human. I'm not fully a Time Lord, either. I have some of the characteristics of each. I do have the ability to regenerate, which is why I survived being shot. Jennifer's wounds were too great. She never had a chance to regenerate."
"Did Angelus create both of you?" Sarah asked.
"We met, fell in love, and got married. What neither of us knew was that the modifications Angelus made have the ability to be passed from person to person in much the same way AIDS can. Time Lord biology is much more advanced than your own, and tries to assert itself when instituted into a new host. That normally kills the host, or makes it rather ill at the very least. Jennifer got quite sick on our honeymoon, but recovered after a month We didn't know until we started being able to read each other's minds that anything had happened. She became a Time Lord hybrid just as I did. Only we didn't have very much time together.
"So what happened to Angelus?" Sarah asked.
"The Time Lords got wind of Angelus after a few years and took him away. There was a great debate about what to do with me--whether I should be allowed to live or be killed. I told the Time Lords I would be happy to continue as an agent in residence to assist in any problems that might occur on Earth. They agreed, with the stipulation that I was not to use Angelus' TARDIS to travel in time and space. I cheat a little on that account, but I don't go hopping around the universe or off to visit Julius Caesar or anything complicated like that."
"I thought you'd never call," Kate told Lynda.
"It has been rather busy here. Spike and I have been touring talk shows all day telling the world we're going to be married. I haven't had a chance to get home for a while, and I just saw your fax."
"You two are going to actually do it?" Kate exclaimed, after a screech of delight.
"Absolutely, Kate. No doubts."
"I'm happy for you both," Kate replied.
"Enough adulation. We're paying for the call, let's get to work."
"What do you think of what we've discovered so far."
"I think we have a problem," Lynda replied firmly. "Marriner left a message asking for a meeting tomorrow morning at the offices. Quote: 'We need to discuss your future.' Bad news."
"One on one meeting?"
"No, he's bringing Sarah with him. Fat lot of good that will do me. I can twirl Sarah around my finger like nobody can, but if he's what we think he is, I'm not gonna have a prayer with either of them."
"Julie says we can't print it no matter what we find."
"Fool!" Lynda spat. "We have to get this story out to somebody, even if it means I have to write it by hand and set off the fire alarm at the school again to print it. This is too important for all of us not to follow up. What's she doing this for anyway if she won't run it-- blackmail?"
"Yeah, that word did come up."
"Amateur hack! I'm going to really enjoy bursting her bubble."
"One more thing, Lynda. Julie says the McDowell girl is one of the financial team on the Junior Gazette buyout."
"Is she now?" Lynda said, interest piquing. "I think I'll do a little investigating myself, if that's the case."
"Assuming Julie doesn't beat you to her, and she'll even talk to us. Angie seemed to think she'd keep quiet."
"We won't know until we ask.."
Night had fallen, and the Junior Gazette staff had departed for their homes. Sarah had left too, her head spinning with new ideas and new concepts. Only Marriner was left now, until his peace was disturbed by Sophie and Laura barging in waving a piece of paper.
"News from America...."
"Kate and Kevin are there. They've met Angie Becker...."
"What are we going to do?"
Paul held up his hand to still the commotion. "The end game is beginning, you two. From this point on, you stick close to me and keep the guns loaded. Sophie, get Brigadier Crichton from UNIT on the phone. I'll want to speak to him immediately. After that, get Lynda Day on the phone personally and tell her tomorrow, 8AM, Sarah's office. No discussions. Laura, check to make sure that the cloaking devices are working and that no one will recognize you. I want you both at the Gazette building tomorrow as insurance against Thriptos and his Agency goons trying anything."
Sophie smartly saluted and went off to do her job. Laura lingered a bit. "Do you want the microphones taping tomorrow in the office?"
Marriner nodded. "I also want a camera rolling in there with a feed to the TARDIS communication systems. Whatever happens in that office gets broadcast live to the universe, and if the Time Lords get caught on Candid Camera, so much the worse for them."
Laura gingerly put her hand on Paul's. "You don't sound like you're going to win this one. Why?"
"Two problems, one room." Paul turned the teacup upside down, looking in vain for one last drop. "Ties up the loose ends in a hurry," he shrugged. He gave Laura a hug. "We may not win this one, but we'll go down fighting, right?"
"Absolutely, sir." Laura saluted and left the room.
Paul returned the salute, but when Laura looked back as she was leaving the room, she noticed his gaze had departed from her and gone to the painting of his wife on the wall. "Circles," he said quietly. "Always traveling in circles."