Mother
5
He brought the girl with them. Altia. In a train.
An elevator longer than any the Doctor had ridden before descended from the centre of the 'Nursery of Lim' nearer and nearer to the star than any of them felt comfortable. It was nearly impressive how the temperature remained stagnant, stuffy but still cool enough that she had no inclination to take off her jacket.
The train had just one carriage, one room. No driver, not even a robot; it just slid noiselessly along its tracks. Through the window, the Doctor could see the thick cladding on the car exterior already buckling under the heat. It bubbled and burst like water.
"Maglev," said the Doctor, though nobody asked. "Normal tracks would swell too much in that heat."
Shortly, the train slipped into a tunnel, going even deeper into the Frame.
"It's getting worse," said Jenny, restless, pacing up and down. "I've been to Cardiff a lot, you know. The rift there doesn't feel like this. What's wrong with you both? Why doesn't it bother you?"
"It's something you get used to," said the Doctor.
"How?"
"It's complicated, we can talk about it later."
"If there is a later."
"There will be a later, I know it feels like… it's the nature of a rift. It – stop walking," the Doctor stepped in front of her and put her hands on her shoulders to keep her still. She kept tapping her foot, though, clenching and unclenching her hands. "Some rifts rupture spacetime so thoroughly that being near them feels like you've been thrown into the ocean at high tide without a life raft. It's… I know I've not taught you much about…"
"About what? Anything?" said Jenny.
"You can feel timelines and fixed points and divergences, even if you don't know it," she said, "Like I can. And a rift like that will just… devour. Erase. It doesn't help that all these people are doomed. Come and sit down." She pulled Jenny over to a seat.
"Who are you to each other?" asked Dalji, he and the girl sitting together way down at the other end of the train.
"She's my daughter. Isn't that child yours?"
"We are all sons and daughters of the Mother."
"Right. Well, Jenny came from me. And I'm actually alive, not a specimen in a jar that should be thrown into the sun to put it out of its misery."
"How dare you talk about the Mother like that, after all I've-"
"Oh, yeah, like I'm the one being belligerent here. The Tsar used to ride around in ornate trains all the time, and do you know what they did to him?"
"Doctor," Romana interrupted, "That's hardly appropriate. You are being belligerent. And besides, many more royals besides the Russians use trains – what about Queen Victoria? Nobody ever executed her."
"Not for lack of trying."
"Now you're a death dealer. Is that what's changed in five hundred years? I didn't know you had such a capacity for cruelty. Selfishness and vanity, yes, but not cruelty."
"Your words cut very deeply," said the Doctor.
"As is their intention." Silence. They stared at each other, until the Doctor had to look away, back out of the pitch-black window. But all she saw was herself reflected in the glass, and she couldn't look at that, either.
"We're almost here," said Dalji.
"You don't need to call ahead, or anything? Warn them?"
"They're expecting Altia and I for the initiation. And there is no precedent for first contact."
"We're gate-crashing your little ceremony, then? That's great. Don't roll out the red carpets on my account."
"You hate pageantry," said Romana.
"Hence the sarcasm." Jenny didn't care for their bickering. She just wanted to go back home.
The train drew to a halt very quickly, but still without making a sound. Rather than stand to leave, Dalji waited. They heard mechanisms clunk and grind somewhere outside, and then the darkness became even more absolute; a door, somewhere, had shut on them. Then a hiss.
"They're pumping in cold air," said Dalji. It went on for some time. Eventually, though, lights came on outside, dull gold, illuminating a huge chamber. It was the size of an aircraft hangar.
They disembarked the train. The Doctor saw rows upon rows of identical tracks, one after the other until it got too dark to see anymore.
"All the Nurseries have a direct route to the Oras Sanctum," said Dalji. "You know very little, to be the Temporite Successors."
"What do you mean by that, exactly?" asked Romana. The Doctor was both too furious at them to ask sensible questions, and now, increasingly worried about Jenny.
"The Successors, they speak to the Orasi, and the Orasi deliver their words and wisdom to the rest of the Temporites, so that we may become them," he said. Altia clung onto his robes as they walked, leaving the hangar for another corridor. It was built on a gentle slope; they were still descending, closer and closer to Odo. Jenny got worse with every step.
"C'mere," the Doctor said softly, taking Jenny's arm, "Everything here is unstable, except for the three of us. You focus on me, okay? We'll get through it."
"Nobody here to meet us," said Romana.
"We're expected for a grand entrance."
"With no escort?"
"Why would we need one? We know the way, don't we?" he said to Altia, who did not speak.
"Suppose she didn't want to come."
"No. This is a great honour, to be proposed for the initiation."
"Proposed? Meaning what? She might be denied?" she asked.
"The Orasi don't talk with those outside the Sanctum about things like that."
"What's all this on the walls?" She indicated symbols carved into them, stretching endlessly ahead. The Doctor was paying no notice, occupied with Jenny, but to Romana, it was clearly circular Gallifreyan – only, not quite. She recognised the formations and the patterns, but none of it was legible words, save for a few which could be words, but only supposing they all had dreadful spelling.
"This is the language of the Successors. Only the Orasi can read it."
"Looks like gibberish to me, I'm afraid. I rather think you ought to get one of those little buggies to drive up and down here," she said.
"Excuse me?"
"Because it's such a long walk."
"The walk is part of our culture."
"Really? Like a pilgrimage? A very quick one, though, I'll give you that. Isn't that funny? Long for a hallway, not very long compared to somebody marching from France to Jerusalem. But potentially, the same objective. In theory. I suppose you aren't trying to decapitate Saracens and steal their gold."
"The walk is for contemplation, and quiet."
"Oh, I see. Have you been here before, then? If you aren't an 'Orasi'?"
"We all gather for the ritual of giving, each year."
"Ah, very good! Like Christmas, I imagine?"
"Like what?"
"Never mind. What do you give?"
"Gifts, to the Successors."
"Not to each other?"
"We have everything we could ever need here."
"Yes, you have an awful lot of marble," she nodded, "I'm not even sure the Greeks had so much of it. And perhaps the Greeks didn't have quite so many soothsayers, either, which appears to be what you've built your society around. But I've been to Delphi before, and they did queue for miles to speak to the Oracle."
"I met some oracles in Pompeii," said the Doctor, catching bits and pieces of what Romana was saying, "They were breathing in stone dust to give themselves visions. Turned themselves into stone, in the end. No good."
"I dread to think what you were doing in Pompeii."
"Don't ask and I won't tell," said the Doctor, very serious.
"…Do you know, I think the queue to see the Oracle at Delphi may have been just as long as this hallway," said Romana.
"Again, it's for contemplation," Dalji could barely hide his annoyance.
"And what do you think of it all, then?" she addressed the child directly, "Joining the Orasi – did you choose to do it?"
"She was chosen," said Dalji.
"She can speak for herself, surely?"
"It's my duty," said Altia in a tiny voice.
"All the Nurseries take turns to offer candidates to the Orasi," said Dalji.
"Yes," said Romana, "I was worried that would be the case."
Finally, the door approached. It wasn't illuminated; it only swam out of the dark when they drew near. Another large, bank vault door, with another pair of automatons waiting. It opened before they got close.
Behind it were two strangers wearing shining, golden robes, complete with headdresses ten times too large and arranged about the head like a halo in a stained-glass window. Romana had seen similar robes many times before, had even been measured for some of her own. Except, these ones had brilliant white, beak-shaped masks, not unlike an Earth plague doctor, but with no eyes, hiding their face completely.
"You're the Orasi, I presume?" said Romana, cutting Dalji off completely.
"The Nursery of Lim is only allowed to make one offering to the Orasi," said the one on the left, a male voice.
"Yes," said Dalji, "But these guests aren't from the Nursery. All-Seeing-Ones, I am honoured to present envoys of the Temporite Successors, finally respondent to the ritual of giving." Neither moved.
The one on the right, a female voice, said, "They look like orphans. They cannot be the Temporite Successors, this would defy the laws we have lain out."
"It's a tricky one, isn't it?" said Romana, "Anyhow, I'm Romana. This is the Doctor and Jenny. We're Time Lords, from the planet Gallifrey, and I think we might have a bit of copyright infringement on our hands."
"The Doctor is waiting for Altialasterlim to arrive," said the right Oras.
"No, I'm the Doctor," said the Doctor, still with an arm around Jenny, who looked as if she'd come down with severe flu – grey and clammy, "That's my name, it's not a title. You've stolen it. You've stolen everything."
"Please, All-Seeing-Ones, believe me," said Dalji, "They infiltrated the Nursery of Lim and nearly destroyed the Mother. All so I would bring them here."
"How would you like us to prove it to you?" said Romana.
"Prove it to them? Get the hell out of my way," the Doctor dispensed with any niceties, any politeness. Jenny in tow, she marched straight past Dalji and Romana, and then between the Orasi, who were so shocked by somebody being so rude to them they didn't know what to do. Romana followed the Doctor, as always.
The chamber beyond went even deeper still. It was an amphitheatre, with them at the top, seats full of white-masked weirdos lining the room. Everybody turned when the Doctor barged in, staring, somehow, through the solid masks.
"It's a horror show in here," said Romana, disturbed.
"Yeah, it is," said the Doctor, "And look at that. I knew it." She pointed at the thing the amphitheatre was built around. A ring, six feet tall, currently obscured by shutters. Romana knew what it was, too; she'd felt it without even needing to see it. "The Untempered Schism," said the Doctor, "Not a normal rift at all. Spacetime pulling itself apart, pulling different universes apart-"
"E-Space and N-Space," said Romana. "If we thought a CVE was jarring, trying to go through that-"
"Nasty," said the Doctor, "They sit around in here, and they stare at it, waiting for it to tell them the future. To tell them our future, the Time Lords, Gallifrey."
"No wonder they refuse to leave the system," said Romana.
Jenny swayed dangerously, as if she was about to faint.
"Listen to me, listen to me," said the Doctor, gripping her tightly and keeping her upright, "That thing they've got there – I'm sorry. It's not something I ever wanted you to see, to even have to think about.
"We had this at home, exposure to it is what makes ordinary Gallifreyans into Time Lords, makes anyone into a Time Lord if they spend enough time around it. It's why it's not bothering me now – but you, you never had to see it," she touched Jenny's cheek, "Nobody ever dragged you away from your family, they never made you stare into it until it drove you insane, until it tore you apart and put you back together again in all the wrong ways. And that's what they're going to do to her." Her attention changed, she looked at Altia, but didn't leave Jenny's side. "Initiation. It's just the same thing, it's all the same – you can't make a child look at that!"
"We all looked into the Eye of the Successors," said the male Oras by the door.
"And it did this to you. You want to invest in some mirrors, instead of looking into the heart of a star that wants to kill you," said the Doctor. "All of you! You think you're Time Lords! You think you're like me! You're not. Even with this much exposure to the Untempered Schism, you're-"
"Doctor," Romana cut her off, "If they have been exposed to temporal radiation, then – doesn't that mean they are Time Lords? To an extent."
"Are you kidding me? You don't see what's going on here?"
"I know it's not cricket, but they don't know any better. Most Time Lords don't know any better – and believe me, I agree with you about the Schism, it's barbaric to make the children do that, I've always said it. I ran away, too. But-"
"You don't understand, Romana. You can't. Not right now." To Romana, it was little worse than plagiarism. To the Doctor, three centuries post-Time War, it was an attempt to raise the dead. "It doesn't matter. You all need to leave, regardless. Evacuate this system. That star, 'Kasterborous', it's about to explode and take you all with it. The Schism is massively destabilising it." Everybody was listening to them now.
"Nonsense," said another, faceless Oras. "The Successors created the Eye to communicate with us, to tell us our destiny."
"We built the Frame to commune with them," said a fourth.
"We've presented them with countless gifts," said a fifth.
"Oh, sure. Gifts. Like what?" asked the Doctor, "No, no. Why don't you let me guess. A pair of gloves, maybe? Metal, armour? With the uncanny ability to bring people back to life?"
"You must be the Successors if you've received the gifts."
"Received the gifts!" she exclaimed, "Your gifts are lost. They're going nowhere near Gallifrey, just getting spat out by the vortex in random places and times. You bet we'd've done something with it if somebody sent us a resurrection gauntlet in the mail, let alone two of them. Dalji said your leader here calls themselves 'the Doctor' – I'd like a word with this Doctor." Another figure stepped out from behind the gate to the Untempered Schism, still hidden. They were wearing black, rather than gold, save for another white mask.
"I am the Doctor," they said, "The leader of the Orasi is always the Doctor, and the leader of the Temporites."
"And who gave you that name? Did you hear it, whispered through that thing? Like 'Gallifrey', 'Kasterborous'? Hm?"
"The words are presented to us by the Successors."
"No. You just heard them talking about me. What's your second-in-command called? The Master?"
"I am the Master," said another one garbed in gold.
"Great. Great. She'll love that, that I got the fancy black outfit and she has gold like everybody else – which is funny, because gold is far more my colour."
"What do you mean, 'she'?" asked Romana, "You've not been palling around with the Master again, have you?"
"I – it's complicated! I can't tell you about that. But you're 'the Doctor', you're in charge – how about you order everybody to evacuate, hm?" she challenged. "You must have functioning ships. I can give you directions. You've got to get away from that star."
"The Successors-"
"The Successors are me, us! Gallifrey isn't here, it's in another universe – you wanna go to Gallifrey, I can tell you where it is! But it's not here! And if you stay here, you're all going to die, and very soon, I promise you that! What do your scientists say?"
"The Wisdom of the Successors is all we need," said 'the Master'.
"Oh, sure. That's just wonderful. Who cares about the science that tells you your sun is about to explode, when you've got some crystal ball that vaguely suggests otherwise – and even then, only if you squint at it!
"Look, I don't care that you're copying us, you clearly don't know any better, but to build all this, this Frame, these trains, these robots, and to not see the truth when it's staring right at you? It's insanity! Odo – Kasterborous – whatever you want to call it – is going to destroy you!"
"Odo?" said 'the Doctor', "Where do you get this word?"
"From the ones you left behind, the 'orphans'. We stopped by Iavai Minor earlier. They had a ship, they escaped, with my help. And what about you? Will you be smart enough to take up my suggestions? Because you've got time machines, all of you, they can send you anywhere! You don't need to be here!"
"Somebody remove these people, they're likely orphans themselves," said another Oras who hadn't spoken yet.
"No! You're not listening to me! You need to leave, go! Run! Run as far away from here as you can!"
It was too late. A rumble churned through the air. They were so close to the star now.
"What is that, what is that?" asked Jenny, holding her head with her hands.
"The star," said the Doctor, "That's it. I can feel it in the air."
"I daresay you're right," said Romana.
"We have to go," said Jenny, feverish, the world swirling around her. She was on the brink of collapse.
"Everybody needs to go," said the Doctor, "All of you, out of here! Drag in one of those train cars and take it through the Schism, that'll be your best bet."
"Don't be absurd. You're not the Successors, you don't know anything. This is a trick – turn our own words against us," said 'the Master'.
"I'm right, but I don't want to wait around here until that star proves it," said the Doctor. The whole room began to shake, people gripping their chairs to stay steady.
"Doctor…" said Romana seriously, "If the integrity of this structure is in any way compromised, we'll burn alive, even before it explodes for good." The Doctor stared at them all, the rumbling getting quickly worse. They were still optimistic, in spite of it all.
"The star's exploding! It's going to kill you, now! All of you!" Silence. No more engagement. "Don't you hear me!?" The rumble intensified. She heard a distant, dull explosion, and then another; sunspots, all ejecting at once. "You have to leave! You – all of you – I can't-"
"We have to leave," said Jenny.
"Wait," the Doctor told her.
"We can't wait! We can't die here, too!" Jenny argued. The Doctor returned to Dalji, who didn't know what to believe anymore, the girl terrified behind him.
"Dalji, if you care about that girl at all, if you think there's even a chance I'm telling the truth, get her out of here right now," the Doctor ordered him, "Just take her, and run. Back to the train, back to the Nursery, and pray that your temporal scoop is still working."
"We're going," said Jenny, searching her pockets. Another sunspot combusted somewhere, and the lights flickered.
"If we lose power here even for a second-" Romana began.
"The Oras Sanctum has never lost power," said the lefthand Oras from the door.
"And your star has never completely exploded! Not yet, anyway!" said the Doctor. "You're all doomed, but the girl – you take her, you send her away. Do you hear me? Go! Leave!"
Finally, he listened.
Despite the Orasi protesting, Dalji and Alita took off out of the room together, back to the train, back to the Nursery. Romana didn't think much of their chances to so much as make it to the beginning of the hallway.
"You're a coward, Dalji! The Lims will be forever tainted for this!" the righthand Oras called after him.
"Here, come on," said Jenny. She'd found her keys and attached to them the tiny, emergency teleporter, made to look like a laser pointer, that Oswin had built decades ago.
"What is that?" asked Romana.
"Teleporter, back to the TARDIS," said the Doctor.
"But we should take them," said Romana, "If you've had a teleporter all this time – the girl, Doctor. Everybody here is fixed now, except for her, we need to go after them." More sunspots erupted, every second now, and the lights kept going. The temperature was rising, too. "Doctor, if she-"
"That's it!" said Jenny, furious, "We're gone." Keyring in hand, she grabbed both the Doctor and Romana by their arms and pressed the button.
Pulled along through spacetime with no capsule to protect them, and with the presence of the Untempered Schism, made it a nastier journey than usual – and Oswin's pocket-sized vortex manipulator wasn't all that pleasant in the first place.
Jenny fell into the chair immediately, next to their temporal scoop, while the Doctor started twisting levers and pulling buttons on the console.
"Doctor, we need to go back," said Romana, "The girl-" But the TARDIS was groaning and yawing, the central column screeching, in protest at its persistent presence in that star system.
"I know, the girl is in flux," said the Doctor, "But we're leaving."
"We can't! Somebody, we have to save somebody, even if the rest of them don't want to listen. She's a child, she-"
"I know who she is," said the Doctor. "The Last Temporite, the Last Queen of France."
"That's her?"
"Of course that's her. Who else would it be?"
"One of the Iavaians, perhaps, that we already helped?"
"No. I've met her, and I've seen the portraits. She's no shapeshifter."
"Then-"
"I know what I'm doing. Do you trust me?"
"Always."
"Then help me fly the TARDIS away from here."
"And go where?"
"Back to the Tharils."
"You're not serious. You're going to leave me here again?"
"I told you earlier, I'm not the Doctor who takes you back home from E-Space. Help me with this, please?"
"It's rare you say 'please'," said Romana, angry and annoyed. But she did help the Doctor to get the TARDIS going.
"She didn't like being here at all," said the Doctor quietly, talking about the ship, "Just like you, Blue. I should've listened…" Jenny said nothing. She was breathing deeply, eyes closed, trying to collect herself.
"You're not going to come back to Iavai without me, are you?" asked Romana.
"No," said Jenny before the Doctor could answer.
"Because if my future is set in stone, but you're far enough ahead, then if you came back-"
"What? I'd be able to die there without worrying about screwing up your timeline? That's not happening."
"You've always been a bit devil-may-care."
"There's something I can do to save the girl. Don't you worry about me, just never breathe a word of this. I can't know."
"I understand."
The TARDIS was away now. They had left the system, left the star.
"I've never known you to carry a teleporter like that," said Romana.
"I don't, but Jenny always has hers," said the Doctor, "Oswin built them, a long time ago. All they can do is take you to the TARDIS."
It took a while for the Doctor to get the ship back under her control, and convince it to do what she wanted again. She suspected it, too, was frightened she was going to turn around and go back to the exploding star if given the opportunity. It resisted every input, and she doubted it would be entirely back to normal until they returned to N-Space and it got some rest.
But she was able to steady it eventually, stepping back having set a course for the Tharil fleet and Romana's temporary home. Romana had not helped her fly the ship, lingering behind her. She had never been one not to speak her mind, though.
"An entire planet you left behind. An entire star," said Romana.
"Not for the first time."
"…Something has happened to you, hasn't it? You've changed. You try to hide it, but you can't." The Doctor didn't respond. "You're scaring me."
"Maybe you should be scared. The Temporites weren't. A little fear every now and then is good for the blood, no?"
Romana was horrified. The Doctor still could not look at her.
"When you arrived this morning, I could still see him, in there somewhere. But he's been disappearing by the minute, fading away."
"I'm always fading away."
"Don't try to talk to her," said Jenny, slouching, eyes still closed, "She won't tell you a thing, not a single thing. She never does."
The TARDIS's pained engines eased up the further they got.
"You should wipe some of K-9's memories," said the Doctor.
"I can't do that. The data he has, it should go to Gallifrey," said Romana.
"Do they really need to know about this? Those people are dead now, and I failed. They named themselves after me, after us, and I failed."
"…Do you trust me?"
"Of course."
"Then I'll decide. If I have some time before you really let me leave E-Space. Didn't you come and find me for my expertise?"
"Yes," she said, expecting Jenny to say something else, disagreeing with her, but she was quiet.
"Then I'll decide."
"Okay," she relented.
"…It's a little more leftwards if you want to actually arrive at the main Tharil fleet, rather than missing it entirely," said Romana, leaning across the Doctor to turn a dial around.
The TARDIS flew on, the Doctor thinking, Jenny trying to recover.
"Who did you say will be collecting me?" asked Romana.
"The Seventh Doctor. I'm the Twelfth."
"Any other 'companions' I should watch out for?"
"I was alone."
"Whatever happened to you, this terrible thing," Romana began. The Doctor met her eyes, finally. "Will it happen to me, too?"
"You'll be fine," she lied. "Do you know why?"
"Why?"
"Because you're going to promise me something."
"What?"
"That you'll come and find me, in five hundred years."
"You mean to say, if I can come and find you."
"No. You will. What's the alternative? That you break a promise you've made?" she tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it. And Romana saw straight through her, anyway.
The TARDIS thumped down aboard the same ship Romana had been on earlier. She was returned to her rightful place, her rightful timeline.
"We're back?" Romana asked.
"Back," said the Doctor, and then cleared her throat. "Five-hundred years. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Alright. Five hundred years." And then Romana surprised the Doctor, by leaning in and kissing her cheek, just once, softly. "And you'd better explain yourself when I arrive."
"I'll tell you everything."
"And I want to meet Clara," she said, clicking her fingers at K-9 so that he followed her towards the doors.
"You can meet her."
"And Oswin. I must talk to the mind responsible for all those machines."
"I'll think about it."
"I'll see you soon, then," Romana opened the door and stepped outside.
"You will," said the Doctor. Romana nodded, smiled, turned away. "Romana?" she called, one last time.
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Goodbye."
As the TARDIS door swung closed, the Doctor saw Romana's smile flicker, and begin to disappear. But the door shut before it could, turning the moment into a photograph.