The Loop: Chapter Four
Ghost was standing by the edge of the swimming pool, examining his skin, when the Doctor reappeared behind him.
"I had this cut, here, and here." He pointed to a blank space on his leg and then another on his arm. "I had all these pits and nicks everywhere. What the hell happened?"
"I think the nanites got a bit carried away." replied the Doctor. "They default to repair everything and we were in a bit of a rush, so we just let them get on with it." He clapped his hands together and rubbed them enthusiastically, his expression bright and cheerful.
Ghost pulled at the skin of his face, peering at his reflection in the mirror. "I look like I'm ten years younger."
"I think they sort of set themselves to about twentyish for humans."
"For humans?"
"For humans, i.e not me." The Doctor grinned at him, sheepishly.
Ghost thought about asking the obvious question, and then decided against it. Nothing good had come from any of the replies to his enquiries yet. There was no way to keep track of how long he'd been here, but he'd felt like he'd wandered the place for hours, searching for something that he couldn't find: answers, reasons, other people. He had nothing to focus on; nothing to cling to and it frightened him.
He was supposed to be dead, but he wasn't. River had tried to explain things, but after seeing outside, he couldn't take anything in. He came to his senses in the middle of her lecture, after her words had been washing over him for about ten minutes, unheard, and he remembered: Roach was dead, Toad was dead, Archer was dead. Everyone he cared about was dead. He felt like his insides had been sucked out, leaving a hollow, empty shell.
He'd got up, and walked out of the control room, just pushing past River and walking until he was far away. He could feel the sadness welling up inside as he walked, twisting and turning through a maze of corridors, and then the grief hit a critical point, scorching through him like a wildfire and exploding out of his chest in a deep, aching cry. He'd slumped against the wall and then dropped to his knees, unable to support his own weight any longer and wept into his hands.
When it had petered out, he didn't know how much later, he'd tried to find the control room again, but had ended up at the swimming pool. He'd thought: to hell with it! It had been a pleasant escape to throw off the blanket and dive into the cool waters, washing away the salt and the lingering smell of petrol. Ghost was a strong swimmer, and he liked the absolute solitude of it. All the noise of the world was blocked out. He could almost convince himself things were normal. Now, drying himself off, the cool air raising gooseflesh on his newly refurbished skin, it was very obvious things were not normal anymore.
"I'm a Time Lord." The Doctor continued, as if this was an adequate explanation. "And I'm the only one left." An awkward silence descended. "I know what it's like to lose people in a war, Simon."
They stared at each other for a few seconds, the Doctor's expression haunted with sadness, and then he looked away, almost embarrassed. When he turned back, the childish smile was back on his face as if nothing had happened. The moment had passed. "Anyway! River picked these out." He said, brightly, holding out a bundle of clothes. "Hope they fit! Your old ones were a bit... burnt."
Ghost turned them over his hands. "Thanks." He said. There were a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but he didn't know where to start. He felt like he was thinking and moving through a very thick fog.
"What do I do now?" Ghost asked.
"Put them on." said the Doctor, helpfully.
"No." Ghost shook his head. "I mean, what I do now that I'm..." he tailed off. He still wasn't sure how to describe his current state of affairs.
"I don't know." The Doctor shrugged.
"But you're the one who brought me here! You filled me up with that silvery stuff!" Ghost's confusion was starting to become frustration, he didn't have the mental gymnastic skills to understand his predicament and it was starting to hurt his head.
"The universe is a mysterious place, Simon. We all have a path to follow, even if we can't see where we're going."
"Very bloody Zen." snapped Ghost. "Well I know where I want to go: I want to go back. Your girlfriend said you can travel in time, so take me back. Take me back and l can save Roach."
"She's not my girlfriend, and I can't take you back. Look: Simon Riley... Roach... they died in that place..."
"I'm not dead!" Ghost yelled.
"I know!" The Doctor shouted back.
"So put me back! I could kill Shepherd, Makarov. I could stop the war!"
"You can't!" said the Doctor, firmly. "You think you can just change time at will? You don't mess around with your own timeline."
"Why not?" demanded Ghost.
"You don't have the slightest idea of what you want to mess with! I've seen what happens when people think they can use time to win a war. I've watched time be twisted and pulled and bent until it snaps. I'm the last Time Lord. I'm the only one left because my people started asking themselves what you're asking. That's where it got them: trapped in the never-was for all eternity!"
"What happens if I try to stop the war?" asked Ghost.
"In very simple terms?" said the Doctor. "The Universe goes 'spang'."
"Spang?"
"Yes. Technical term for wobbling for a bit and then snapping back into place in such a way that part of the galaxy implodes on itself. You make sure the war doesn't happen, by making sure that none of it ever happened, anywhere. It's not like turning the... the clocks back in the summer! Time and space are bound in a living, fluid Universe. Start to make a tiny tear and it'll end up in a rip that pulls you inside out. You want to make a paradox, a huge, world changing paradox that will blow your world apart and I am not going to let that happen!"
"I can't just do nothing! I can't just sit here the rest of my days!" Ghost felt himself getting angry. He felt a deep sense of injustice at the situation manifesting in an impotent rage. He pushed past the Doctor and stormed out.
"Will you put some clothes on! What it is with soldiers and being naked!" River rolled her eyes and threw her hands up in a clear gesture of exasperation. Ghost realised he was still clutching the bundle of clothes the Doctor had given him in his hand. Embarrassed, he started to rummage through them for some underpants.
He had found his way back to the control room. The corridors seemed different from when he'd left before and he wondered if the ship was in some way trying to guide him to where it thought it should be. River didn't exactly seem pleased to see him. She had been sitting at a table filled with parchment and old leatherbound books, peering at the contents with a magnifying glass.
"I'm sorry... I got a bit distracted. Thanks for getting me these." He said, indicating the clothes.
"You're welcome." She said. "You know, my father was a soldier."
"Oh, which regiment?"
"He was centurion, and it was more of a sort of... militia. He didn't like to talk about it." She looked up brightly "Sorry, this must all seem very odd to you. You forget, you see, when you've been here long enough that it's not normal for most people."
"Too true by half." He replied. "I just wish there was something I could do. It's not fair!"
"No. It's not. You can't mess about with your own timeline." She sighed.
"That's what he said." Simon rolled his eyes in the direction of the door.
"He's right. I tried it once."
"Oh? Why?"
She turned to face him. "You're a soldier, Simon. You've killed people."
"Yeah." He said, frowning. "I don't brag about it or nothing. I was just doing my job."
"So was I." She looked away for a second and sighed. "I was trained for a single purpose: to assassinate the Doctor."
"What?" said Ghost, bewildered. "But you didn't... Or are you going to?"
"I didn't want to. The people who held me captive didn't bank on how I really felt about it. So I didn't pull the trigger, and then..."
"The Universe went 'spang'?" said Ghost, sarcastically.
"No. You know that noise when metal is under terrible strain, a sort of..." She took a deep breath and made the most awful noise Ghost had ever heard.
He clapped his hands over his ears to shut out her out. "Bloody hell!" he said.
"All of time started to happen at once, it became very unstable. Fortunately, when I killed him, there was resolution and it healed over. Everything went back to normal."
"How did you kill him, if he didn't die?"
"Trade secret!" said the Doctor, bursting through the door, with a flamboyant spin. "And I thought you of all people wouldn't need to ask that question."
Ghost thought about it and felt very stupid. "Fair point." He said. "So what do I do now?"
"You've got your own destiny, Simon. We just need to find out what it is."
"I've been a soldier all my life." Said Ghost, exasperated. "I don't know how to do anything else! I didn't want to do anything else! Am I supposed to just go back to Hereford, rock up to the front door of the base and say "Rumours of my death have been greatly bloody understated"? I'm sure it'll get a really big laugh!"
The Doctor paused, and then his eyes lit up. "Yes!"
"What?" said Ghost.
"Can't believe I didn't think of it!" The Doctor skipped backwards and then turned, sprinting to the control panel.
"What didn't you think of?" Ghost started after him.
"You're a soldier!" He called back. "I know people who need soldiers!"
"And these people would be?" River asked.
"Oh! The very best! Come on baby, show us what you can do!" shouted the Doctor as he grabbed a level on the control panel.
"What do you mean-" Ghost started to ask, but then the floor was ripped from under his feet.