8
The things were green, emaciated, and barely hominid. Taller than her father, they towered over the ranks of young men and women in armor that they escorted. Oddly, they all had gauzy vestigial wings on their backs, completely disproportionate to their bodies. The Doctor watched them pass, his eyes riveted on the humans.
"Chosen ones." he said, mostly to himself, "We got it wrong."
Jenny looked from the things to her father. "Hunh?" But her father was already striding forward. He started to speak with one of the young men, but one of the creatures leaned down to snarl at him with its ugly, pushed-in jaw.
"O-kay…backing off…" the Doctor said, both hands raised. The group marched away without another glance.
"What is it?" Jenny murmured.
"Something that, if I'm right, is pretty illuminating. And a little bit enraging too." he replied quietly."Wish I hadn't sent Ramble off. I need-"
"You wished to ask a question?" the mild voice said beside him. Jenny jumped, and cursed under her breath.
"Yep." The Doctor said shortly, "I want to know exactly what they are."
"Them?" Ramble said, glancing at the retreating greenish backs. "They are…" he said a word, and behind it came a series of concepts; tools, beasts of burden, things to do work that was dull. Things made to do what they were told. "They do our bidding. They are given a task, and they carry it out. They have all the power in us, but little of the wit." He glanced over the fading group, his eyes narrowed. "They have done well."
"Their task." The Doctor said, his voice sharp with anger, "Was it to gather up children who looked like good prospects, take them and make them into soldiers?"
Ramble nodded slowly, watching the Doctor. "They will be our battle-leaders. This upsets you?"
"You bet it does. And I'm going to have my say about it. Jenny, go back to the TARDIS. I'll be back in a bit." Turning, he strode in the direction of the Lady's pavilion.
Ramble looked after him. Then he shrugged. And they were in her father's console room.
"You've been stealing kids and training them as soldiers?" Jenny demanded. Ramble shook his head. "No. They were not stolen. They were asked."
"Right." Jenny shot back, glaring up at the tall man. "And when you tell a kid that he can go to magical places and play with the faeries or stay home, you've really given him a choice. Why don't you just make some of your own soldiers?"
"Like you?"
"Yeah, like me. If humans can do it you sure as hell can."
Ramble shrugged. "This way suffices. It is how my elders have always done things."
"Tradition doesn't make it right." Jenny said sharply, "Just makes it old."
For a long moment, Ramble stared at her. "Your kinswoman awaits. I must go."
"Wait a-" but he was already gone.
"Bastard." Jenny growled to herself. For a moment, she stood, hands balled into fists. The ship's proximity alarm shrilled.
…
"What was that about?" the Walker asked when Ramble appeared beside her.
"Your grandfather needed information. That is all."
The Walker nodded, and turned her attention back to the view. They'd seen three places, but this view was the finest; from where they stood on a ridge, the long field was spread out like a carpet.
"Does it look like this on earth as well?"
"More or less." Ramble said quietly. "It is a great place."
"It is beautiful." the Walker said, looking out. Ramble nodded. "Great battles have been waged here. It is fitting that another such battle should be."
The Walker looked away, her smile fading."If you'd been in many battles you wouldn't say that."
"I have seen battle." he said, as if thinking it over. "At times. Have you?"
The Walker smiled wryly. "Oh yes. I've seen war."
For a moment the hilltop was silent. The Walker glanced at the Eternal. He was staring over the plain, his skin lit with the same brightness that seemed to infuse this place. It made his good looks even more striking.
Now that was silly. She pulled out her sonic screwdriver, capturing images of the plain with it.
"By the way, what is this place called?"
"Moytura. Field of the Pillars." He said another word, and with it came the images of a black bird in the sky and the gleam of weapons.
"Your spoken language is lovely." The Walker said. Ramble nodded.
"We use it when we do not wish to speak into the mind."
"Kind of you."
Turning, she saw the shining green land rolling away forever. She smiled. "Now I am glad I accepted your invitation. You've found a beautiful place here. It must be lovely at dawn."
"Would you like to see that?"
A moment later, the sky was brilliant with the colors of sunrise, an orange ball of sun just peeking over the rim of the world. The plain glowed like an emerald.
"It's beautiful." the Walker said, her eyes bright. She turned to Ramble."You're quite the artist!"
"Thank you. Walker." Then he leaned forward, and his lips were on hers.
The Walker was too shocked to react for just a moment. With his touch came his thoughts; swirling, vast, beautiful, strange patterns flashing by, lines of silver shot through with color and emotion and sensation, too much to take in all at once.
By Rassilon!
Ramble pulled away."I am sorry. I unnerved you. It was not my intent."
The Walker swallowed. His skin was so much hotter than her own, and her lips tingled where they'd touched.
"I-that is…" By Rassilon, she sounded like a love-sick ninety-year-old. She would calm down. She looked out, over the green expanse. Composed herself. "I take it you were curious about the sensation. But please don't do that again."
Ramble looked at her for a long moment. Then he, too, turned away
…
"You can't take children!" the Doctor repeated. The two Eternal women stared at him. It was like talking to a brick wall.
"Why is this a problem?" the Lady asked, her green eyes puzzled.
"The fact that you have to ask that tells me you haven't spent nearly enough time around humans." The Doctor snarled.
"And yet we have been doing this for millennia." The woman called Maeve said. "When we need entertainers, or…breeding stock, or any sort of attribute of ephemerals."
"And in all that time you still haven't learned much." the Doctor retorted. "With your abilities you could create soldiers ready don't need to do this."
Maeve tossed her head. "Such silly little preoccupations. You bore me." And she was gone.
The Doctor turned to the Lady. "Just listen to me! You can't take children away from their parents. The humans have a deep emotional bond with their children. Breaking that bond is psychologically damaging to the parent and the kid."
The Lady smiled. "I have seen that, Time Lord. I have watched them. And I have created my own children. But once they are created, they go their own way. Is it not so with humans?"
"Not until the children are mature. And even then the bond is powerful. Here. Look in here for proof if you want to." He clearly pictured Martha with her baby, Sarah Jane with her Luke, all the parents he'd seen holding their children close. After a moment, he showed a little of his own attachment to his daughter and his granddaughter.
When he opened his eyes, the Lady was nodding. "I have seen these things. But children go on. These children will be great."
"Children grow up." The Doctor said. "They don't disappear. And when they do they might as well have died. Have any of your children died?"
The Lady shook her head slowly. "I created them to be closer to men. To share and understand their emotions. To feel, pain and joy alike. They can choose to return the energy that made them to me, and cease to be. And they can be wounded. But they will heal over some time. They do not die as men do."
"If you don't know how much it hurts, then don't dismiss it." The Doctor said, his voice low and raw. "Losing a child is more painful than you can understand."
The Lady cocked her head. "Make me understand, then. Show me."
The Doctor stared into her eyes. Cool, inquisitive, and interested. This creature could never sympathize with a description of pain. She had no prior experience of death to allow her empathy.
She was right. He'd have to show her.
"Fine." He sighed. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
The memory was one of those that he'd buried deep. He'd hoped to bury it for the rest of his existence. He steeled himself, and brought it to the forefront of his mind.
The regiment had been above Nagithej-swisoe, trying to give the population time to evacuate as the Daleks advanced. Another ship had materialized, and his TARDIS had read out the identification credentials. He had grinned, and opened a hailing frequency.
"Welcome to the battle, First Lance Sheara!"
"Ready for duty, Father!" the clear voice had replied. "And I think-"
Then the specialty cannon had fired from a Dalek warp-hopper, and her ship had disappeared in a blaze of blue flame.
His forehead creased at the echo of the emotions he had felt. It had been his fault. He hadn't protected her. And he had lost his eldest child.
Raw pain, a pain so deep that it felt as if both his hearts had been pulled from their moorings. And frantic hope that maybe he could do something, go back, save her, desperate hope. Then despair, and the black, howling, devouring rage. His daughter. Dead. For those moments, he'd been barely sentient.
He remembered it all. Then he opened his eyes.
The Lady was staring at him, her eyes wide and shocked. Tears tracked down her ivory skin.
"I…understand now." She said three words in her own tongue, and in them was a wish that the pain had never been, a sadness and a wish to comfort, everything she felt for him.
Drawing herself up, she returned to translatable language.
"What's done is done, and cannot be rewritten until after the battle. But you have my word that no more children will be asked by me."
The Doctor nodded.
"You have a storm in the heart of you." The Lady said. "I wonder that such a small creature as you can hold such a thing."
"You don't even know the half of it." The Doctor said, a shadow of his usual humor ghosting across his face.
"No." the Lady said, quiet surprise in her voice, "I do not."
…
Jenny tapped the keys to bring up the external viewer. She'd thought her father had scared off everybody who might bug them He was usually good at that, when he wanted to be. She just hoped it wasn't that inspector.
But no, it was Mary outside, calling. Jenny sighed. She jogged over to the outer door, and then walked through the simulated 'tent'.
"Hello Mary." She said brightly.
Mary nodded. "Good morning to you, miss." she said. She swallowed, and seemed to be looking Jenny over.
Damn it. She'd forgotten the bloody dress. She was still in jeans and an old black t-shirt.
"Oh, sorry," she prevaricated quickly, "I'm still in my work clothes. Can't really dig or run around the hill in a skirt."
"Of course, miss." she paused for a long moment. "I was wonderin' if your father might be in. If he might be inclined to speak with me for a time."
"He's not here at the moment, actually. But I can tell him anything for you."
"Oh, it's not a thing for a lady to be worrying over-"
"I've helped dig up dead bodies, Mary." Jenny said, cutting her off, "I can probably take whatever you need to say."
"Of course." The girl said nervously, fingers picking at the hem of her shawl.
"It's only…well, some of the men, neighbors an' friends of mine, have gone, and since they're gone the inspector wants to brand them murderers of the men dead last night."
"Last night?" Jenny had thought it had been the night before. All this spatial transference was really mucking up her internal clock. She hated that.
"Yes," Mary continued. "There are a few lads, Jhon Flynn, Finn O'Hanalan, Billy Fitzwilliams and…" the pause was filled with so much emotion Jenny could almost taste it—"and William Ford, and I can speak for them personally. They're good lads, every one of them. None of them would do such a sinful thing, and if they're off t'join the army, they're gone of their own will and no harm done by them. I swear it's true."
"I know it's true." Jenny said, meeting the girl's pleading gaze, "and so does my father."
"Then could he intercede with the inspector for them? A fine English gentleman such as himself, if he spoke for them it might go well. Otherwise they'll be in the gaol the moment they reach the army posts." the girl's expression was so earnest that Jenny reached out a hand, patting her shoulder awkwardly. "Hey, it's okay. I know for a fact they're safe and not headed to the army, so no worries there, and my father will definitely-" then she realized what a mistake she'd made. Mary's look had changed to a shocked stare.
"You know where our lads are? Where they've gone?"
"Um…sort of."
"Where?"
"I think they went to the shipyards." she said quickly, "To look for work. At least that's what my dad said."
Mary eyed her dubiously. "The shipyards stopped takin' on men last year, and a fair number of them closed."
"Oh. Must of heard wrong. Maybe he meant they were taking a boat?"
"What? With no money? And all at once, with no send off? There's no truth in that." Mary scoffed. Then she lowered her head. "If you know where they are, please miss, put my mind at rest."
"Well, I'm not really sure…"
"Then how do you know they're safe?"
"I—because my father told me so. Now, I've got a lot of things to do, and—"
"And how does your father know where the lads are?" the girl asked quickly.
"I'll definitely ask him when he gets back. And I'll be sure to ask about William. He's your…" what was the right word? "sweetheart, right? Now I've really… "
"If you'd only tell me where he is-"
"Look, I can't tell you." Jenny said in exasperation, " All I can tell you is that he's safe and that I'll…that my father will look after him. I can't tell you any more than that. He's going to be gone for a while-"
"A while?" Mary's eyes widened. "Did they send him to the poor houses?"
"No! He's here, sort of, and it'll only be six days, okay? He'll be fine. I'll make sure of it. Now I really have to get going, and-"
Mary glared at her. "Oh, you English, all the same. I thought some of you might be different. But here you are, lady that you are. And you won't even tell folk what's happened to their own kin and neighbors!"
"I can't right now." Jenny said, frustrated. "Just trust me. I know where they are, and they're safe."
"If you know where they are, then I'll follow you." Mary said. "Every day, aye, and every night too, till I find out what your lot has done with our boys." She'd slipped into Irish in the heat of her emotions.
Jenny matched the girl's stare. "Fine. You want to know where they are? Remember Ramble?"
"The fay lad?"
"Yes, him. Well, his people have a war going, and they're…asking for volunteers in their army. It's just one fight, and they promised everyone would be back in six days. Okay?"
"And you expect me to believe that?" the girl said irately. "Just because I told you a few tales about the fay folk that I half believe, and I'm Irish, you think that I'll believe eighteen men were spirited away by the little people?"
"You believed it just fine when Ramble showed up." Jenny retorted.
"The man appeared out of thin air!" Mary snapped. "What else would you call that?"
"Interspatial translocation."
"There you are again, great English lady, using a bunch of grand words and looking down on me."
"Look, I'm not English!"
"Ah? Not English?" the girl scoffed. "And what are you then? Are you going to try to tell me you're an American? With that accent?"
"No! I'm not American, and I'm not English! I'm not even human, okay?"
"You're not what?"
"I'm not from this planet." Jenny replied. Mary's hands balled into fists, and she drew a deep breath."I may be a poor country girl, but if you think I'm fool enough to believe a tale like that on top of the others you've already told then you're-"
This argument was getting ridiculous. Cooly, she grabbed Mary's wrists, pressing the girl's hands to her chest. Mary jerked back, but Jenny's grip was steady.
"What in the world are you-"
"Hold still and be quiet." Jenny sped up her hearts a little, to make the sensation of their beat clearer.
Mary glared at her. Then her eyes widened in her thin face. Her lips parted, but no sound emerged for a few moments. "You…you've got…."
"Two hearts." Jenny replied. "Not human. Therefore, not English. Got it?"
….
The Time Lords worked. Mary sat in the chair, wearing the lost expression of someone trying to absorb too much experience too fast. Jenny glanced at her before turning back to her topographical map of the area. Maybe she'd gone overboard with her explanation. It was a pretty big shock for a person who had no concept of other sentient species. She jotted down another calculation on trajectories, and passed it to her father, who corrected a few bits.
I still can't believe you told her.
What was I supposed to do?
You could've tried walking away in the first place. She thought you were English. It wouldn't have surprised her.
Sorry. I wanted her to know that they were okay. She's got a crush on one of the guys. And then…
And then you let your emotions get away from you. He glanced at the girl, and sighed. All the same, I suppose she won't be that much trouble.
All she wants is to see this William guy and see that he's okay. Then she'll stop bugging us. Jenny added hopefully. The Eternals don't give a damn either way, and they'll rewrite the timeline anyhow. Besides, she might be beneficial in helping the men adjust. Training and preparation is going to be hard enough without the troops in deep culture shock.
Her father shrugged.
"You're from a place in the stars?" Mary's voice sounded dazed. Jenny turned from her work. She'd tried to explain after the initial shock, but not much of it had gotten through, she guessed. Her father was right. She ought to have kept her temper under control. That reaction was uncalled for.
"Another planet, sort of like this one, around another set of stars. A long ways away."
"How far?" Mary asked quietly.
"Depends on how you travel." The Doctor said over his shoulder. "But think of it this way: we could go to America in less than a minute, and it would take us a day."
If we could still go there. But she wasn't going to try to explain that.
"I see." Mary said. Jenny waited, but the girl said nothing else. She turned back to her work. She didn't like this calculation type, but if she could get it right this time…
"Miss Jenny?" said the quiet voice.
"Yeah?" Jenny asked distractedly.
"How is it that you have an English accent? Being from another world an' all?"
Jenny glanced at the girl, and shrugged."I guess it was because that was what I heard when I was born. I got my English from listening to my dad speak, and he speaks English with an English accent because..." She turned to her father, who'd stood to stretch. "Where did you get your accent?"
"Oh, just happened." the Doctor said, leaning against a wall, "First English speaker I heard was from England, and I s'pose I picked up the accent with the language. It's stuck too. Jumps area codes with regenerations, but it always comes out English." He glanced at Mary. "I'll have you know I speak French with a perfect accent. And Chinese. And Tonga, for that matter. S' just the English language I can't seem to reprogram up here." He tapped his forehead.
"Tonga?" Mary asked distantly.
"Pacific Island dialect. Lovely sunbathing round there. And coconuts. No bananas though. But, back to work." He turned, and dropped back into his chair. "Strategy. Strategy." he stared at the map, one hand tugging at his hair. "There has to be a strategy that will end this fight, clean, quick and decisive." Then he sighed. "I'm no good at ground battles. It's something I skimped over in Primary school, and it's been ages since then."
"And seeing Hannibal cross the Alps didn't help?" Jenny asked jokingly. The Doctor snorted. "All I learned was to dress better and avoid stepping in elephant doings. And this needs a real hum-dinger of a strategy, too. They've got to win outright."
"We could try the Fothosian Move. Or the Etra Curve." Jenny judged. "Of course it all depends on the cohesion of the troops and their merits as fighters. We need to know every participating group, their cultural martial tactics and their general abilities, know what we're working with. Be nice to know the other side's too. But I think with the proper training and decisive, accurate leadership we can definitely win this. Of course weapons mechanization and basic tactical maneuverability of the battlefield will be important, but that can probably be overcome with a little aerial cover, even arrows would do, or whatever maneuvers the Eternals will use. Of course if they're in on it we'll have to know what sort of stuff they're going to pull, but it can be worked around. Just another set of tactical variables. What do you think?" She glanced up at her father, who was staring at her with wide eyes.
"I think that all went right over my head." He said. Turning, he strode to the hat rack, grabbing his coat.
"Where are you going?" Jenny asked, stepping forward.
"We—" he said, pulling on his coat, "Are going to get you all the tactical details you need. Come on, allons-y!"
Jenny glanced at Mary."Well, come on if you want to see William."
"Where?" Mary asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Jenny smiled sarcastically, pushing a strand of pale hair from her eyes. "Fairyland, I guess."