The idea had been beyond human comprehension— but that was par for the course at UNIT, where even the lanyards were alien. Even so, this one was particularly mind-bending: a weapon constructed over six dimensions! The plans meant the beam could fire on anywhere in time and space, and beyond— to possible futures where even a TARDIS couldn't go!
And what was more, it could do it without leaving the Earth. The bulk of what was known as the Sixship was situated in London; in an unattractive office block just past the edge of Greenwich. It was there for some reason to do with the meridian, they'd said, though they'd never explained how that could make sense at all.
They said it was needed to keep the whole planet safe. Didn't everything feel so uncertain, in the world that they lived in now? But as Petronella Osgood looked through the window to another reality beyond, the woman who might not be human didn't think that she'd ever felt worse.
It was quiet in this part of the Sixship, and she was alone. She was now senior enough to have her own office, where worked on the paperwork they'd always say was important. But she didn't feel good about it, of course. It had been a long time since she'd felt good about anything at all.
She left her office door open as she went to get her ninth coffee. She'd never drunk much of it before, but now it seemed to do the trick: it kept her awake and would break up the day. Sometimes she would start shaking and get extremely angry. Drinking a dangerous level of caffeine meant she could tell herself it was because of that.
There was no one in this part of the building now. They'd have all gone sixwards to the weaponised part of the ship, to oversee the end of the planet they would soon destroy. She'd told herself she was too busy to be involved in that process. That was obviously a lie, but then so was everything else.
So yes, there was nobody here. But she now saw that wasn't quite true. A little girl and someone who must have been her mother were walking down one of the corridors. There were no children allowed on the Sixship, and there was no way they could have got in. But then Osgood was used to living in the middle of impossible things.
"This is just an office," the mother was saying. "Do you think he got it wrong? He was very confident and annoying. People like that can know less than they think they do."
"He wasn't wrong," her daughter said, with a certainty that wasn't like her age. "This is where he wanted us to be, even though it doesn't look like anything. The TARDIS looks like it's just a broken old box. This place could be sort of the same."
Osgood's guts dropped at the use of that word, which the child shouldn't have known or been able to use so casually. And her heart raced when the child looked over to her, like somehow even little girls were now a threat.
"You look very silly," the child said.
Osgood laughed at that. It was a long time since anyone had been that honest.
"I suppose I do," she said. "I wear this to remember something important. But I often think I've forgotten what it was."
"We were told by a tree this place was important, too" said the child, "but my Mum thinks it's only an ordinary office."
"It's an ordinary office," Osgood lied, her brain noting the thing about the tree. "Your mother's right to say so."
A part of her mind told her to leave things at that, and she ignored it.
"But it's a very private office," she added. "It shouldn't be possible for someone and their mother to get in."
She regarded them both through her large, thick glasses.
"How did you get in?" she said.
"Ah," said the girl's mother, "we're here because, um. We're with, a, an agency—"
"We came here through the woods," said the girl. "Though they weren't really woods at all. The tree said they were all of space and time—"
She means Greenwich Park, said a tiny part of the woman's brain. She's seen the Observatory and become confused; she's only a little girl. It's better that you don't leap to conclusions. You certainly shouldn't go saying"—
"This wood," said Osgood, risking everything. "I don't suppose it'd have anything to do… with the TARDIS?"
The mother looked horrified, unable to stop herself.
"How do you know about"— she said before she realised it was unwise to say anything at all.
Her child stared at Osgood.
"Are you the Doctor?" she said in a voice like she was asking for directions.
Osgood reeled a little at that. "No," she said. "Why would you think that? The Doctor's not"—
A million lightbulbs suddenly flashed on in her head.
"...but she is, isn't she?" she said. "The Doctor is."
She took a very deep breath.
"I'm not the Doctor," she said, "but I'm a very big fan. And I think I might have betrayed her, though I didn't even realise I was doing it. But I still know her well enough that I know what she'd say to us now. She'd say we'd all been very stupid; have an insult about the size of our minds. But not to you, because you're still a child. What she'd say to you is what I'd tell you, too"—
"Run," she said. "For God's sake, run!"