Author's Note:
Hello all! Sorry for the slight delay in posting this, but I've been busy finishing off my Doctor Who/Life on Mars crossover story, "Visiting Mars", which I've been writing for ever and is now finally complete. Thanks to everyone who took the time to R & R that one, by the way, it really meant a lot.
And, of course, thanks to everyone who reviewed on this one since I last posted: MayFairy, Vincenth, Ahsilaa, MountainLord-92, gallifrey calls now, TheWickedHeart, sailormajinmoon, EmmaMarie, Imorgen, Beautifulspace (x 7), Celestial Valkyrie, SawManiac211, silentnight, Geraldine, JessieDear13 (x 2), Aietradaea (x 2), Lost Moon, Theta'sWorstNightmare, Neopolitan Dreamss (x 2), Rosalina and EDZEL2 (x 2).
(PS: I just want to state, for the record, that no live chickens were harmed in any way during the writing of Chapter Sixteen).
To sailormajinmoon: Yup, when it happens, the conversation between Kat and Koschei will definitely be a doozie. And Theta is certainly starting to put it all together, not long now until it all comes to a head! Thanks very much for the review :)
To Beautifulspace: Thank you very much for all your enthusiastic reviews. Sorry I couldn't update as quickly as you wanted, but I got a bee in my bonnet about finishing my other story, as well as real life being extremely busy at this time of year. Besides, I wanted to give some of the other readers a chance to catch up a bit. I hope your sister had a lovely birthday and I'm very glad she liked your present :)
To silentnight: Oh yeah, that Hart/River conversation is going to be a fun one to write, I'm really looking forward to it, heh heh! Plenty of Pandorica stuff in this chapter, so at least you won't have to wait any longer for that bit. Thanks very much for the review!
To Geraldine: Thank you! Very glad you liked it!
To Lost Moon: Oooh, good luck in your exams. Thanks so much for taking the time to review! XXX
To Rosalina: Great to hear from you. I hope you will continue reading :) Have a nice holiday in France, that sounds terrific!
All righty, if anyone's still reading after all those thank-yous, here's the chapter. (No warnings today!)
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN -
"According to legend, wherever the Pandorica was taken, throughout its long history,
the Centurion would be there, guarding it."
- Doctor Who, The Big Bang
Cautiously, Hart followed the Doctor and Rory out into the corridor, heading for the stone stairs leading up to the surface, making sure he surreptitiously retrieved the blaster pistol from the floor near the door as they went. It was slightly blackened and warped from being struck by Rory's laser, but it appeared to still be in working condition. That was the thing about Villengard sonic blasters, he thought in satisfaction, as he slotted the weapon back into his holster. They were built to last. Unlike Villengard itself, which had been destroyed when the nuclear reactor that had powered the factory had mysteriously gone critical. From what he had heard, there was a banana plantation there now, of all things. A tragic loss to the Universe, in his opinion.
The Doctor and Rory were a little way ahead by now, tramping hurriedly up the stairs. They were both so anxious about the woman the young centurion said he'd killed, that they had apparently forgotten all about him. He hung back a little bit, quickly going over his options in his mind, trying to figure out which course of action would benefit him the most. He had no loyalty to the Doctor or Rory. Whatever waited up on the surface was their problem, not his, so he had no compunction in allowing them to face it on their own, if that was what suited him best. He had his vortex manipulator back. In theory, he could go anywhere in the Universe he wanted, in any timeline he chose. But, according to the Doctor, the rest of the Universe had now never existed. If that was true – and he had a horrible feeling it was - there was nowhere else for him to go. The vortex manipulator would simply refuse to acknowledge any co-ordinates he put in. Either that, or he would end up teleporting into a void, which was a far from pleasant thought.
Of course, he could always retreat to the sanctuary of the Master's TARDIS. In the midst of all the temporal upheaval, the stable interior of the time machine was probably the only really safe place remaining. However, it wasn't going anywhere until Blondie or the Princess came back to pilot it. And right now, with both of them on the missing list, it didn't seem as if that was going to happen any time soon - assuming either of them were even still alive. To be honest, the idea of staying indefinitely alone inside the huge, echoing ship gave him the absolute willies.
No, the most advantageous place for him at the moment was at the Doctor's side. He didn't know the man from a bar of soap, and what he did know, he didn't particularly like. After all, it was the Doctor's fault that Jack had changed the way he had. Hart could quite cheerfully have killed him just for that. However, he was Tejana's father, and he was a Time Lord, the only one currently available, so it made sense to assume that he was the best chance – perhaps the only chance – for Hart to get out of this mess alive.
Content that he had made the only decision possible under the circumstances, he began to edge warily up the stairs, following the other two out into the open. It was night outside and the air was bitingly cold, hitting him like a slap across the face as he emerged from the underground tunnel. Ghost-like drifts of mist swirled and coiled eerily around his ankles. The only sound in the stillness was the crackling of several small camp-fires dotted about. Except for the Doctor and Rory, no-one else was in sight. The two of them were not far away, crouching beside a blanket-wrapped form stretched out on the ground.
"I killed her!" Rory said again, his words travelling clearly through the frosty air, choked in agonising pain.
The Doctor pulled back the blanket, revealing the figure of a woman. She was motionless, her eyes closed, evidently dead. The Time Lord's youthful face twisted in compassion. "Oh, Rory!"
For a brief instant, Hart's breathing hitched in alarm as he saw the woman's long, red hair spilling across the ground. But then he relaxed, realising that it was much more auburn in colour than Tejana's dark copper locks. Besides, they'd said this girl's name was Amy, hadn't they? Whoever she was, he knew he had never seen her before in his life.
Quickly losing interest in the dead woman, he looked around, automatically assessing his surroundings for threat. He had never been to Stonehenge before, but he had heard enough about it to instantly recognise where they were. The tall standing stones were bathed in gleaming white moonlight, casting enormous, thin shadows across the mystical circle. Almost involuntarily, his gaze was drawn upwards, and his guts twisted in shock. Despite the Doctor's warning, he was totally unprepared for what he saw. The sky was beautifully clear, the sort of night when every star in the heavens should be achingly visible, shining in all their celestial glory. But apart from the round, smiling face of the moon, there wasn't a thing to be seen. The sky was sheer, unbroken black, like a blank canvas waiting to be written on. Every single star had disappeared, as if they had never been. A shudder wracked Hart and he swore uncontrollably. His life had always been out there among those stars. To have them so suddenly erased was to feel the very foundations of his existence ripped out from beneath him.
"What am I, Doctor?" he heard Rory ask in a trembling voice.
With some difficulty, Hart dragged his eyes back down to stare at the young centurion. From what he'd seen so far, it was obvious that Rory had to be some kind of android. However, the expression on the boy's face was as desolate as the empty night sky, his grief at the loss of the woman almost tangible. If Hart hadn't seen the weaponry concealed inside his body, he would definitely have believed him to be one hundred percent human. In all his travels, he had never before encountered an android with such an extraordinary emotional range. Despite the disorienting shock of the missing stars, he found he was curious to hear what the Doctor had to say.
"You're a Nestene duplicate," the Doctor said, intent on running his sonic screwdriver over Amy's prone body. "A lump of plastic with delusions of humanity."
"But I'm Rory now! Whatever was happening, it's stopped now. I'm Rory!"
The Doctor held the screwdriver up in front of his eyes, examining the results of his scan. "That's just software talking."
The Time Lord's voice was suddenly as cold as an icicle and twice as uncaring. Rory looked absolutely devastated, as if his friend had just stabbed him through the heart. Even Hart, who wasn't in the business of feeling sorry for people, couldn't help feeling a twinge of sympathy for the boy.
"Can you help her?" Rory pleaded. "Is there anything you can do?"
The Doctor stood up and gave a casual, indifferent shrug and wandered off a few paces, his eyes fixed on the deserted heavens, his back to Rory and Hart. "Yeah, probably...if I had the time."
"The time!" Rory's voice vibrated with astonished fury.
"All of creation has just been wiped from the sky. Do you know how many lives now never happened? All the people who never lived? Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe."
Whoa, Hart thought in amused fascination. The abrupt change in the Doctor's personality was almost schizophrenic, from compassionate and caring to callous and uninterested, all in the blink of an eye. And I thought Blondie was cold!
In an explosion of rage, Rory grabbed the Time Lord by the shoulder and spun him violently around to face him, before smashing him across the jaw with a powerful right hook. "She is to ME!" he roared.
The Doctor crashed in a crumpled heap to the ground.
A delighted grin spread across Hart's face. As he had noted before, at least hanging out with Time Lords was never boring. "Way to go, Julius Caesar!" he chortled, flexing his arms above his head, like an obsessed fan at a prize-fight. "Woo! Plastic fists of thunder!"
The young centurion whirled on him, his eyes blazing with uncontrollable fury. "RORY!" he yelled passionately. "My name is RORY WILLIAMS!"
And with that, his fist lashed out again, taking Hart by surprise with the sheer speed and strength of the punch. Before the ex-Time Agent knew what was happening, he had landed beside the Doctor on his backside, his jaw throbbing like an absolute bitch.
"You know, unlike you, I'm not sure I deserved that," he muttered to the Time Lord in a wry voice, rubbing gingerly at the swelling contusion.
To his surprise, the Doctor just laughed and jumped to his feet, carefully wiggling his own jaw back into alignment. "Welcome back, Rory Williams!" he exclaimed. "Sorry, I had to be sure. Hell of a gun arm you're packing there!" He hurried past the bewildered centurion, back over to the prostrate figure of the woman. "Right, we need to get her downstairs! And get that look off your plastic face, you're getting married in the morning."
Still a bit unsure, Rory followed him. "So you've got a plan then?" he queried, supporting the woman's head while the Doctor lifted her feet. Together, they carried her towards the tunnel entrance and back down the stairs. Using his good arm, Hart levered himself up off the ground and trailed along behind them, curious to see what the Doctor was intending to do. He knew from his own experience that the Time Lords were able to do any number of amazing things, but surely raising the dead was a task beyond even their abilities.
"Bit of a plan, yeah," the Doctor confirmed, as the small convoy re-entered the room containing the Pandorica. "Memories are more powerful than you think. And Amy Pond is not an ordinary girl. She grew up with a time crack in her wall, the entire Universe pouring through her dreams every night. The Nestenes took a memory print of her and got more than they bargained for. Like you. Not just your face, but your heart and your soul."
He turned to Hart and gestured towards the Pandorica. "If you wouldn't mind doing the honours again, Captain Hart?"
Hart stared at him incredulously, wondering yet again if he had lost his mind. "You want me to open it? Not a chance in hell! Evil-Twin-Of-Blondie is still in there!"
"Yes, well, funnily enough, I hadn't forgotten that," the Doctor retorted. "But I need to put Amy in there too."
"You need to what?" Rory demanded, his arms tightening protectively around the red-headed girl, the disbelief in his tone mirroring Hart's. "What for?"
"To save her. This box is the ultimate prison. You can't even escape by dying. It forces you to stay alive."
"But she's already dead!" Hart pointed out, reasonably enough, in his opinion.
"She's mostly dead. The Pandorica can stasis-lock her that way. All it needs is a scan of her living DNA and it will restore her."
"And where's it going to get that?" Rory asked.
The Doctor looked at his watch. "In about two thousand years." Then, seeing the unconvinced, obstinate expressions on the faces of his companions, he added, "Trust me, I've got a plan. And the first rule of the D-Team is: 'Don't argue with the Doctor when he has a plan'."
"I thought you said the first rule was that the Doctor lies," Rory responded bluntly.
"Yeah, well," the Doctor grinned. "I lied about that!"
The Chaos-Master was good at waiting. The Cruciform had waited for centuries for the real Master to arrive on Mnemosyne, to reawaken it from its long inertia. But in the end, he had come, and the Chaos-Master had been born. Now it was just a matter of waiting again. As frustrating as its imprisonment was, it would not last for ever. One day, some fool who wasn't aware of the legend would find a way to open the Pandorica. And then the Chaos-Master would be free to obtain his revenge, on the Doctor and on Hart, if either of them were still alive, and after that, on the rest of the Universe. A goblin, a trickster or a warrior...a nameless thing, soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies... A faint smile tugged at the corner of the thing's mouth. Oh yes, after all the death and destruction caused by the Cruciform in the Time War, the description was more than apt. And it wasn't over, not even close. It had merely been delayed.
In the meantime, the creature sank deep within itself, like a bear going into hibernation, closing down nearly every physical function, relying on the Pandorica to keep its body alive. Only a residual awareness remained, just enough to know when the doors of the prison unexpectedly opened again, less than an hour later. Hostile eyes moved over it; even through the isolating walls of the trance, it could feel them, crawling like insects across its skin.
As if from a great distance, it heard Hart's harsh voice ask, "What's the matter with it? It's not breathing. Is it dead?"
He sounded almost disappointed, as if he had been hoping for some sort of excuse to kill the Chaos-Master himself.
"Not dead," the Doctor replied. "In some sort of suspension trance, I would think. It's an old Time Lord trick."
"You can't seriously be thinking of putting Amy in here with this evil...thing," the one called Rory spoke up. "No way, Doctor! I'm not letting you do it!"
"We don't have a choice, Rory," the Doctor replied. "The Pandorica is the only thing that will restore her to life. And it's also the only thing capable of restraining the Chaos-Master. So, just for now, they're going to have to be room-mates. It's perfectly safe. Even if he emerges from his trance, the Pandorica won't allow any form of attack inside its perimeters, either physical or mental. And Amy won't wake until it receives a scan of her living DNA in two thousand years time, so she won't even be aware of him."
Despite his obvious reluctance, Rory must have ultimately conceded the point, since there were some muffled noises and a slender figure was gently lowered into the other chair, opposite the Chaos-Master. Somewhere in the back of the creature's mind, hiding like a spider under a rock, it sensed the Doctor stroking the girl's hair back from her face, before placing his hands on either side of her head and closing his eyes. "I'm just leaving her a message for when she wakes up, letting her know what's happening."
Shortly thereafter, the other Time Lord backed out of the Pandorica and the doors slid closed again. Outside, the circular locks whirled and spun, sealing the box once more.
Inside, bathed in the thin, blueish light, the Chaos-Master's brown eyes suddenly flicked open, sharp and alert, focusing on the prison's new inmate. A sly, cruel smile crossed its face.
"Hello, Miss Pond," it whispered malevolently.
Outside, Rory watched as the doors of the Pandorica slid together, hiding Amy from view, locking her away from him. His mouth was unaccountably dry with anxiety. The Doctor seemed very confident that everything was going to be all right, but something about the Chaos-Master disturbed him right down to the core of his being.
"So she's going to be stuck in that box...with him...for two thousand years?" he asked.
"Yeah, but the three of us will be taking a short cut, thanks to Captain Hart's vortex manipulator," the Doctor said, tapping the device on his wrist. "Rubbish way to time travel, but the Universe is tiny now. We'll be fine."
"Oi!" Hart protested, bristling with evident annoyance. "Bloody arrogant Time Lords! What's wrong with travelling by vortex manipulator?"
"Unfortunately, we don't have a few days to spare, otherwise I'd be delighted to answer your question," the Doctor replied loftily.
Rory frowned, ignoring their childish bickering. "So, hang on, the future's still there, then? Our world?"
"A version of it, yes," the Doctor nodded. "Not quite the one you know. The Earth alone in the sky. Let's go and have a look." He held out his arm to Hart, showing him the read-out on the screen of the vortex manipulator. "Here. Input these co-ordinates. Unless, of course, you'd rather stay here."
"Hardly," the Captain grunted, keying identical data into his wrist-strap.
"Rory, you put your hand here," the Doctor instructed. Then, as Rory hesitated, he added, "Don't worry, should be safe."
But Rory turned away, running his hand down the outside of the Pandorica. "That's not what I'm worried about."
"She'll be fine. Nothing can get into this box."
Rory flicked an accusing glance at Hart, standing nearby with his arms folded. "He did."
"Well, there's only one of him and he'll be with us," the Doctor said firmly. "I'll be keeping an eye on him every second."
"And it's not just external threats. That creature inside there with her..."
"Won't be able to harm her, I promise."
Rory's back straightened, his posture suddenly stiff and military. "No. This box needs a guard. I killed the last one."
The Doctor walked away, throwing his hands in the air. "No! Rory, no! Don't even think about it!"
"I can't leave her alone with him."
"She won't feel it!" Exasperation rang in every nuance of the Doctor's tone, but there was something else there too, some sort of grudging respect, an admiration for the unswerving devotion Rory gave to Amy, no matter what happened. And perhaps...just perhaps...there was a touch of jealousy there too, from the man who had always had to concentrate on the bigger picture, the fate of planets, galaxies, even the entire Universe; who had never, in all his long life, been able to put the fate of a single individual before everything else, no matter how dear to him that individual was.
"You bet she won't!" the young centurion insisted stubbornly. He'd meant what he said, in that emotional moment back up on the surface. To him, Amy would always be more important than the whole Universe.
"Two thousand years, Rory!" the Doctor reminded him. "You won't even sleep! You'll be conscious every second. It'll drive you...mad!"
"Will she be safer if I stay? Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer!"
The Doctor gave a heavy sigh. "Rory..."
"Answer me!" Rory's voice was like cold steel, unrelenting in its demand.
"Yes," the Doctor admitted, unable to lie. "Obviously."
Rory nodded solemnly. There it was...the unalloyed, unvarnished truth. For him, the choice was black and white, there was no acceptable alternative.
"Then how could I leave her?"
The Doctor made a long, drawn out noise of sheer frustration. "Why do you have to be so...human?"
"Because right now, I'm not," Rory replied bleakly, turning his back on his friend and taking up a defensive position in front of the Pandorica.
The Doctor glanced helplessly at Hart, who merely shrugged, making it clear that the disagreement was none of his concern.
"Fine. You've obviously made up your mind! But at least listen to this, because it's the last bit of advice you'll get in a very long time. You're living plastic, but not immortal. I have no idea how long you'll last. And you're not indestructible. Stay away from heat and radio signals when they come along."
Rory put on his centurion's helmet and buckled the strap firmly under his chin. The Doctor nodded at Hart. "Come on then, Captain. Let's go." In perfect synchronisation, they both pressed a series of buttons on their vortex manipulators and began to fade together, their outlines glittering angelically in the gloom.
"See ya round, Rory Williams," Hart said with a mocking salute, using Rory's real name for the first time since they had met. "Have fun."
"Remember, you can't heal or repair yourself," the Doctor continued to lecture, his voice growing fainter and fainter. "Any damage is permanent. So, for God's sake, no matter how bored you get, stay out of..."
Before he could finish the sentence, both he and Hart vanished into the Time Vortex, leaving Rory standing alone in front of the Pandorica. Resolutely, trying not to think of the implications of what he had done, the young centurion drew his sword and settled in for a very, very long and lonely wait.
Tejana had never run away from anything in her life. Ever since the Doctor had left her behind on Gallifrey as a child, she had refused to take the coward's way out. No matter what was thrown at her, she had always gritted her teeth stubbornly and faced it head on. But this time, staring up into Koschei's dazed navy-blue eyes, she didn't hesitate. With a sharp, eel-like wriggle, she managed to take him sufficiently by surprise to enable her to slither out from under him on the smooth, polished marble floor. Then, leaping to her feet like a startled gazelle, she sprinted across the ballroom as fast as she could, racing for the door.
"Kat!" Koschei yelled. "Kat! What the hell...? Get back here! I'm ordering you!"
But she didn't stop; couldn't stop, even if she had wanted to. Instead, she ran faster, putting every last bit of strength she had left into her wild, headlong flight. She could still feel the possessive imprint of his lips on hers, the sublime heat of his body on her skin. But he had known nothing of any of it. And in the moment of their joining, it hadn't been him that her soul had reached for, but his older self; not the boy, but the man. There was nothing she could possibly say to him, no way she could ever explain what had happened. Her stomach tied itself in knots at the very thought.
And so she ran. She knew it was only a temporary reprieve. No matter where she went on Gallifrey now, he would find her. He had that much at least in common with his future self. But in that one, single, anguished moment, that didn't matter. All that mattered was to escape, to get away, to keep on running until there was nowhere left to run to.
The corridors of the Academy were deserted. Everyone else had gone down to dinner. No-one was left to notice a dishevelled servant girl running as if all the devils of hell were pursuing her. She could hear her own tortured breathing rasping in her ears; feel the pounding of her double heartbeat drumming in her chest; suffering the sharp, stabbing stitch in her side, as she pushed herself harder and harder, faster and faster. She knew it wasn't Koschei she was trying to out-run. As far as she could tell, he hadn't even followed her out into the maze of passageways. Instead, she was trying to run away from herself. The stone walls of Gallifrey seemed to press in upon her, just as they had when she was a child, trapping her, suffocating her, as inescapable as a spider's web, always drawing her back in. To her horror, she realised she was crying; huge, gasping, painful sobs that shuddered through her body. And with every sob, she pushed herself even harder, relishing the burning sensation in her lungs, wanting nothing more than to leave everything that had happened since Mnemosyne far behind her, trying with everything she had just to forget. She had no idea where she was, no idea where she'd been. All her surroundings flashed past, blurring into one, long, silent scream, echoing inside her, releasing her pain into the night.
And then, somehow, without even realising quite how she got there, she was out in the Academy gardens, running in the purple moonlight, glittering between the silver trees.
Tell me, Ana...have you ever danced with the Devil in the pale moonlight?
"NO!" she shrieked, running even faster, not sure if her lips made the noise or only her aching hearts. "NO, NO, NO!"
In front of her, she saw the gate leading into the small contemplative garden she had visited the previous day. Exhausted now, her breathing coming out in great, tormented gulps, she staggered through the opening and flung herself down on to the raked sand, burying her face in the soft grains, careless of the beautiful patterns painstakingly etched there, and gave herself up to the terrible storm of weeping.
"Kat?" a familiar voice said nearby. "Kat, are you all right? What on Gallifrey's the matter with you?"
She couldn't respond, had nothing to say, no strength left to give. But then a pair of strong arms closed around her, and she was tucked comfortingly beneath someone's chin, a gentle hand stroking soothingly through her hair.
"Sssshhhhh..." the voice said. "Hush now, I've got you. Whatever it is, we'll sort it out. It's all going to be all right now, I promise."
And turning her face into Theta's chest, Tejana cried in her young father's arms until she could cry no more.