Triptych III - Remember, Remember

Jack did not know if he was angry or bitter. The Doctor and Rose had left him behind. Why? And what had happened to the Daleks? He walked around the control room of Floor 500, looking at the piles of dust. Were they transmatted? Disintegrated?

The realisation of two things crept up on him as he walked, after the initial shock of hearing the TARDIS dematerialising wore off. The first: He had been dead. He remembered his last act of bravado, trying to buy the Doctor a few more seconds. Then, the bone-searing pain. And finally, nothing.

The second: The two missing years of his life, his memories, had been restored to him. Whatever block the Agency had placed, it was no longer there. He knew who Aranea was, how she was related to him.

"My mother's name was Issuspetta-iilusbanti-Sissometisalapeth," Aranea said.


"No chance it could have been Jo, or Mary, could it?" Rose said under her breath. Not softly enough, apparently, because Aranea smiled.


"Issuspetta was her personal name" Aranea explained, "the rest of it was more of a…description."

Aranea's smile grew a little poignant.

"Clytie - the Regent and my guardian when I was a child - told me my father's name was Roger MacKinley, and his pet name for my mother was Ispeth."

Three pairs of eyes swung to Jack.

"What?" he asked, then it dawned on him, "Oh. Uh, no, sorry, the name doesn't ring a bell. But then diplomatic agents move in different circles from us field agents."

Aranea sighed.


"My mother erased all traces of my father from the Citadel records after his death," she said, "I don't even know what he looks like. All that was left in the government records were his entries into Parliament Hall."

Jack half-collapsed to the floor, sickened beyond belief. He almost missed the draft that built up around him, bringing up clouds of white dust. He turned around, hoping against hope that it was the TARDIS.

Instead of a tall blue box, what materialised was a large mirror set in a gilded frame. Jack stood up, his hands closing into tight fists. He knew what it was - and who was piloting it.

A woman emerged from the mirror, dressed in pure white. Her dress was much in the same style as Aranea's usual outfit. She was rather taller than Aranea, though, being almost the same height as Jack. Her face seemed older, harsher, lacking the delicate softness that made Aranea look both exotic and fragile.

"Hello, Jack," she said; her voice carried a slightly mechanical ring beneath the human intonation, "Are you hurt?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Jack snapped, "Just peachy. So glad you found time in your busy schedule to come visit, Empress."

If she was hurt by his vicious tone, she showed no sign of it.

"I take it that you're angry with me about something."

"No, whatever gave you that idea?" Jack laughed sarcastically, "Wait, there is just one thing that comes to mind."

Jack stopped smiling.

"How could you let our daughter do all your dirty work while you hid, Ispeth? What the hell were you thinking? Where were you when she was putting her life on the line? When she was growing up?"

Jack's face twisted into a mask of self-loathing.

"I almost slept with her," he said in a lower tone, "Our daughter, Ispeth. Do you have any idea how I feel right now?"

Ispeth looked at him, her face devoid of all expression except calm.

"Why did you do it?" Jack asked, his voice trembling. His whole body was shaking.

"Necessity," she replied, as if it was the most obvious thing.

She turned and walked back to the mirror.

"Come in, Jack," she said, "The Citadel will help you find the Doctor."

Jack wanted to say no; he could not bear the thought of being on the same planet as Ispeth right now, much less the same room. The woman he loved; now he could not think of anyone he loathed more. Except himself.

But there was only one way off this station, and if the Doctor and Rose thought he was dead, they would not be back.

Entering the Citadel, he felt a jolt of familiarity. It was like the TARDIS in many ways; it was bigger on the inside, by far, and the console room was always the one closest to the door. But the TARDIS was mostly mechanical, with a touch of something alive hidden under the console; the Citadel was the opposite. It was living crystal, and the only mechanical part of it was the console.

He had spent almost two years living in the Citadel; for a time, he had thought it was going to be his home for the rest of his life.

"As long as our love shall live," he thought to himself, laughing bitterly. So much for vows.

The control room was a large domed space, and the walls and ceiling shone with a soft white light. There was no console here, only a throne set on a stepped dais. Ispeth walked over to the throne, and held out her hand. The throne disappeared, slowly sinking into the ground. Another structure rose to take its place; the familiar console, with its buttons and large display screen. It was a little like the TARDIS console, except it curved into a horse-shoe shape, and a seat was placed on the inside of the horseshoe.

"You know how she works," Ispeth said, "I'll leave you to pilot her. I won't distress you with my presence, until you have found the Doctor and are ready to leave."

With that, she walked to a doorway that sealed after her. True to her word, Jack did not see her at all in the days that followed. He left the console only to eat and sleep, and to step outside to scan for signs of the TARDIS or the Doctor.

Twice he had collapsed at the console, exhausted; he found himself in his own bed upon waking, and assumed the Citadel had carried him there, using her puppet. Once he felt a cool hand on his cheek; dreaming of Aranea, he had called out. Waking up, he found himself alone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0