Chapter 2: The Doctor's Genius

"When do you think he'll get here?" asked Rose—again.

"I don't know," said the Doctor. "Soon, I expect. However, time travel can be tricky at the extremes. This is about as far as a TARDIS can go. I recommend patience."

The Doctor and Rose were seated in a private dining room. A floor-to-ceiling window displayed the black emptiness of space outside. A single candle on the table was the only source of light. She was holding a folder titled "Humanoid Menu," but wasn't looking at it. A bottle of red wine--an Amarone--was open on the table.

"How did you know he'd try to reach me here?" asked Rose.

"I told you already—because I'm brilliant. Smashingly intelligent, marvelously insightful--"

"Ooooh!" said Rose, slapping at him with her menu. "I swear, one day I really am going to--"

"Can you not show me a little gratitude?" The Doctor leaned back in his chair, gazing at her with a very self-satisfied expression.

"Can you not tell me how you knew?"

"Oh, very well," said the Doctor. "If I were looking for someone in a parallel universe, but had no way of getting across, I'd look for a node."

"What's a...node?"

"Imagine plucking a harp string. The string vibrates; as it swings back and forth, it takes many paths through the air, perhaps an infinite number of paths. But each end of the string remains fixed. The fixed ends are nodes. If you touch the string in the center, it will make a sound an octave higher, and you will have created another node. The Multiverse is like this: many paths, with fixed nodes at the beginning and the end, and possible nodes at other points along the way."

"So," said Rose slowly. "All parallel universes started together at the very beginning..."

"The Big Bang, yes," said the Doctor, nodding.

"And they all come together again at the very end."

"Yes, exactly. The Restaurant is perfectly situated at a node, and an obvious place to meet. I thought: that's where I'd send a message, so perhaps he would as well. And, as usual, I was right. Now, Rose Tyler, I have a question for you. Are you ready to order? I'm starving!"

Rose picked up her menu again. Her eyes scanned it a few times, but she couldn't concentrate. "When do you think he'll get here?" She turned away and looked expectantly at the door, for what was perhaps the fiftieth time.

"If you cannot make up your mind, I shall order for you," he said, with some slight irritation.

"Maybe you'd better," said Rose, putting down the menu. "It's just…I can't think about anything…I can't wait to see him. Has he changed? I wonder how long it's been for him? Has it been too long? I hope it hasn't been too long. He's got to remember me; he can't forget me, can he?"

The Doctor didn't answer her; or perhaps he did. Rose couldn't hear anything but her own anxious inner monologue. Presently, however, a noise did penetrate her consciousness. It was a mechanical noise, a familiar noise, a noise that filled her with dread. It grew louder and louder. She glanced up. She froze.

Into the room came a creature. Its colouring was unfamiliar--a shining, opalescent white that seemed to glow from within. But it was, unmistakably, a Dalek.